Tale of Two Cities
by The Author's Mighty Pen
Summary: Anna Smith is the head of a mafia-like institution under investigation by John Bates.
1. There Are Two Cities

He closed up the file, passing it over to the woman pushing the cart around. "Thanks Mary."

"You know, if you finished your filing faster, then you wouldn't need me to sit here lighting a fire under your ass." She fit it carefully in a small space between the other files. "You could even think about doing them early."

"But then what would you do all day Mary?" He sat back, "You'd lose your excuse to come and view Talbot's ass from this angle."

Mary leveled a finger at him, "Don't say things you might come to regret, John Bates. I'm trained just as well as you are."

"Then tell Talbot that." John picked up his pen, taping at his computer keys with it. "When are you getting us new computers?"

"When are you going to get me something for my birthday?" She pushed the cart away and John went back to his computer, laughing to himself.

"Bates!" He turned to see a man with gray hair leaning out of his office, "Get in here."

John pushed back from the desk, walking the distance between his desk and the office. The other man closed the door and pointed John to a seat. He sat on the edge, taping his fingers on his knee before speaking.

"Look, I understand that Mary's being very adamant about me needing to file faster and write my reports a little more clearly but without good computers-"

"Shut up," The other man waved his hand, "I don't care about your sodding files. That's Mary's concern, not mine."

"Then, sir, why am I here?" John sat back a little in his seat. "Talbot and I finished our last case yesterday and it's pretty airtight. I could see a few spots where the jury might-"

"Bates, please let me explain." The other man held up a hand and John bit back the rest of his comment. "It's because you and Talbot finished your case that I'm giving you both this one."

"What one?"

The man sighed, "I didn't want anyone to handle this because there's too much that could go wrong and it's basically a ticking bomb."

"Then why're you giving it to us?"

"Talbot's still new to this work but he's got the mind to bend around what we're a little too steeped in our ways to do. You're the best person for this because you're the best investigator I have." He massaged his hands. "I need the two best minds I've got to tackle this."

The file hit the desk, almost knocking the nameplate that read 'Robert Crawley' off the side. John caught it, easing it back in place, before taking the file. "And what kind of bomb am I picking up now?"

"Our Superintendent wants us to get to the center of this issue the Turkish uprooted last year."

"That mafia business?"

"Yeah." Robert sighed, "This is what we've got to clean up."

"I thought they managed that a few weeks afterward. I remember the trials of those three… what were they, the bloke from York and then the two others who were half-Albanian or something."

"One was Armenian and that's what the Super thought but no," Robert shook his head. "That was the tip of the iceberg."

"Then who's at the base of the iceberg?" John flipped through the material before him. "There's not much detail here. How'd they figure there's even someone else involved?"

"Rumors and supposition mostly. But enough of them have popped up to give the Super reason to have us investigate further." Robert shook his head. "In her words, it's either going to make someone's career or break them in half."

"And you thought a newbie still in training and an old bag like me could risk that?"

"Retirement's not that bad…" Robert smiled, "So I hear."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You can turn it down."

John gave him a skeptical look. "Right, because you call me in here with a case I can refuse." He closed the file, "What would you have in mind instead? I assume something only a step above refuse cleanup."

"It was about that bad." Robert tapped the corner of the file. "I've got all confidence you can sort this out."

"Tell me this then," He opened to a picture and folded the file over to hold it up to Robert's view. "Who's this and why's she in this file?"

"That's Anna Smith, according to the few records our research dredged up on her, and she's suspected to be one of the orchestrators of the street business."

"Why's she a bother? That's small potatoes."

"I said 'suspected'." Robert clicked his teeth. "I don't think that's all she is but that'd be all we could prove at the moment."

"You think she's more involved?"

"Personally?" Robert lowered his voice, "I think she's the head of it all."

"And you want me to do what? Arrest her? Break her? Turn her?"

"If we had someone with her connections and her skills giving herself up for questioning, that'd be great but I also hoped Santa Claus was real." Robert turned to his buzzing phone. "I'd love to chat the rest of this afternoon about what I think we need from this woman but at this point, you need to just get eyes on her. Prove the rumors true or false, that's all I ask."

"Then we're just glorified cameras? CCTV with names?"

"If you like." Robert stood, "Just keep your heads down for now. We don't know what we've got or what we've got to do with it."

John nodded, "Alright then."

He stood, shook Robert's hand, and then left the office. As he went back to his desk he saw a tall, dark-haired man sitting at the desk across from his. John handed him the file and the man widened his eyes.

"Another one already?"

"You know Robert doesn't want to let things lie." John took his seat, "Mary was looking for you earlier."

"Was she?" The man flipped through the information, scanning the pages and pictures quickly.

"I think she likes you Talbot, even if she won't admit it."

"We'll let Mary decide that." Talbot shut the folder, "Then what's the plan?"

"We need to find the woman in that photo."

"The blonde?" Talbot held up the photo, "She looks like small potatoes compared to the bruisers in here."

"It's always the small, quiet ones." John shrugged, "I guess we'll see if it's true."

"I guess we will." Talbot stood, "Can I drive this time?"

"You drive like a maniac Talbot."

"That's the point." Talbot grinned, "People are less likely to suspect you're the police if you're driving like you're running from them."

"Fine." John tossed over the keys. "Just don't kill us before we had a chance to fail this investigation."

They drove across town to one of the specified addresses and Talbot worked them into a tight spot. Parking, Talbot opened the folder and tapped a few of the pictures. "They seem to really love this pub."

"Probably a laundering scheme." John sighed, "I'll go in for a look around."

"Are you sure?" Talbot sucked the inside of his cheek. "They might kill you and skin you alive in there."

"No," John shook his head, "Guy like this doesn't make the kind of mistake that puts me in danger. Not this early in the game."

"Are they already playing our game?"

"More like we're playing theirs." John opened the door, "Ten minutes and then come in like you're sent by my wife or something."

"I thought your wife hated you."

"They don't know that." John got out of the car and crossed the street.

He entered the pub, taking a seat toward the back corner. Pulling out his phone he made a show of texting while snapping photos of the few he recognized from his quick perusal of the file. He was in the middle of sending these to Talbot when someone sat down across from him at the table.

"It's not nice to spy on people in a private establishment." She tapped the top of his phone. "So, if you'd be kind enough to tuck that away."

John took his phone back, slipping it into a pocket. "I don't believe we've been acquainted."

"Not officially, no. But whatever file you and your partner were reading in your car out there probably has a picture of me in it." She extended her hand, "Anna Smith. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm sure the pleasure is not all mine." He took her hand, "John Bates."

"I was wondering which golden boy they'd give my case."

"How'd you know there's a case?"

"One DI is sitting across from me and another is watching the front of my pub from a car he drove far too quickly to get here." She shrugged, "I'd guess that I must be of some importance to get John Bates on my case."

"You know me?"

"I may not have your filing system but I do have people who talk. And the news does some of that." She closed her eyes for a moment, "It was the Hexam case. Something about an insurance scandal."

"I only closed that last night." John pointed at her, "You knew I'd get the case. Who's working for you on my side of the table?"

"That's be telling and I'm not that kind of idiot." She sat back. "I'm just curious what you hoped you'd gain being here now."

"Just looking."

"Looking at what, exactly?"

John eyed her up and down. "A beautiful woman with her fingers in a number of pies. All of which are grand and fantastic." He sat back, "I'm actually rather in awe of you, if I'm being honest."

"I like honesty."

"You do?"

"I do." She put a hand on her chest, "Please don't immediately degrade me or my organization just because you might disagree with how I run things."

"I wouldn't dare since I am, as they say, the rabbit in all of this."

"I'd say you rather are. But how brave of you, coming here to the fox's hole to sniff out your enemies."

"Are we enemies?"

"I don't know." She leaned over the table toward him. "We live in two very different worlds Mr. Bates. The city you see is dusky and dangerous, with very little to look forward to."

"Must be such a sad existence."

"With your wife I don't doubt it." She twitched her lip up as John swallowed. "We're very thorough in our research."

"I can tell."

"But you see, your experience tells you a lie because the world I live in is dark and deadly but full of opportunity. I wouldn't give up the chance of success in my world for the dismal reality you've accepted as yours."

"Even if it means your life ends behind bars?"

"Higher the risk, higher the reward." She took a breath, "And they'd have to catch me and then prove whatever they believe. Since they, as yet, can't do either I'd say the possibility of ending my life like you might end yours are infinitesimally small."

"You do?"

"I do." She stood, "Order what you like from the bar, it's on me. For your friend in the car too."

"That's very generous of you."

"I'm that kind of person." She winked at him. "Have a good day, Mr. Bates."

"And you, Ms. Smith." John watched her walk away, chatting with someone before disappearing behind the bar. He smiled to himself before leaving his seat.


	2. Witch of a Wife

John flicked the switch on his computer and stood, stretching out. Talbot looked up, "Home?"

"Have to go sometime because we all need sleep."

"We, who are not about to die, salute you."

"Thanks for that." John scowled, flipping the collar on his jacket. "It's not as if I don't already dread it."

"Why don't you just divorce her?"

"Because she won't leave without the shirt off my back."

Talbot shrugged, "Then borrow a few of mine and get rid of your witch of a wife. It's worth the poverty to be free of her and you'd always have a place on my sofa if she kicks your ass to the pavement."

"Thanks for that Henry. It's not as if I don't already bear the world on my shoulder." John patted his shoulder, "But I'll work it out."

"John," Talbot moved his lips like he wanted to roll his words in his mouth a moment before deciding what to say. "Just don't abuse yourself needlessly."

"Who says it's needless?"

"Anyone who's seen how she treats you. You're both miserable so why continue it?"

"Because she'd be miserable anyway and misery loves company." John winked at him, "See you tomorrow."

"John," Talbot swiveled in his chair, "What was that all about this afternoon?"

John knocked his knuckles on the wall as he turned, sucking his bottom lip in, "What was what all about?"

"You walked into a that pub, sent me a few pictures, and then walked out with a comp-ed meal." Talbot raised an eyebrow, "I found it very odd."

"I can tell." John shrugged, "What can I say?"

"How you got a free meal and some shoddy photos."

John gave a gasping chuckle. "I don't believe it myself and I was there. How would you believe it?"

"Try me."

"Maybe tomorrow." John clicked his tongue at Talbot, "See you then Henry."

"See you tomorrow John."

John walked out of the building and shoved his hands into his pockets. He walked up the street toward the Tube and joined the hustle there. As he took his seat he stared at the window across from him. The walls turned black and colors blurred before his eyes.

The announcer came over the intercom and John rolled a thought around his mouth before standing with those exiting the train. He worked through the crush to another train and held onto the bar above him while the whole thing rocked, lulling an old woman near him to sleep. When the doors opened he exited, taking the stairs back to the street.

Drizzling rain hit the street, bouncing off the pavement, and John flipped the collar of his jacket up. He avoided an old woman pushing a small trolley with a grim set to her jaw. John dodged the splash of her wheels and blew out a breath before entering the pub.

It was much busier now than earlier. Whether as a consequence of the rain or the hour of the day John could not tell. But he still found a place at the bar and smiled at the woman behind the bar.

He held up a finger but she put an already poured glass in front of him. John held it up, "I didn't order this."

"Boss lady did." The woman nodded toward the corner and John turned over his shoulder to see Ms. Smith in the corner. "It's on the house."

"If I keep coming here I'll be putting her out of business this way." John took the drink and the redhead shrugged.

"She thinks you're cute."

"I'm flattered she thinks about my looks at all." John took the glass, "Thank you. I bet I'll enjoy this."

"You should. It's top shelf."

John took the drink and sipped it, smiling his approval at the drink before taking it from the bar toward the back table where Ms. Smith sat looking over a number of papers. When she saw John she smiled, stacking them together to place on the bench next to her.

"Don't want me to see the product of your work?" He took the seat across from her, holding up his glass. "Thank you for this, by the way."

"I thought you'd appreciate something nicer than the corner shop variety you tend to drink when you bury your sorrows." Ms. Smith faced him. "If you don't mind me saying, Mr. Bates."

"You're about as frank as my partner so I guess I can't be too upset." John took another sip, lowering the glass to the table. "Though you avoided my question."

"I did." Ms. Smith put her thin fingers around her wine glass, taking a sip of her own. "I find one never has to explain an answer if they never give one."

"Must be the basis of how you run your business." She lifted an eyebrow and John went to explain. "Discretion and all that."

"I find being discreet is as valuable as being candid. I appreciate honesty, wit, discretion, candor, and intelligence in so few people." Ms. Smith lowered her glass slightly, "It might be why I liked meeting you."

"You liked meeting me?" John smirked, "Isn't it a risk to admit that so soon in this relationship?"

"You're the one who came back here Mr. Bates. I'd say that reeks of desperation." She giggled, "But I happen to admire someone who admires me."

"Who said I admire you?"

"Why else would you be continuously staring at me?" John swallowed, his cheeks reddening but she only waved a hand before taking another sip. "I'd assume you're here to pick my brain on something."

"On an opportunity I didn't have the latitude to express earlier."

"Missing the permission or did it escape your attention?"

"I'd say you quite stole my thoughts this afternoon and I was helpless against the onslaught." John finished his drink. "Though I'm curious how long you've been following me to know I usually only drink corner shop brands."

"A man is defined by his little actions, Mr. Bates. It doesn't take too long to discover the pits of despair into which he has fallen."

"You're refusing to answer my question again, Ms. Smith."

"I wasn't aware we were in an interrogation Mr. Bates." She sat back, "Why is it that you and your wife don't get along?"

"That's rather a personal question for only our second go-round."

"The question still stands."

"What if I take your approach and refuse the question?" John waited and noted the twitch in Ms. Smith's face. "Might I propose a way around our little impasse?"

"I did say I admire intelligence." She opened her hands, "Impress me."

"I'll give you three questions, answers truthfully, and you do the same."

"Without a polygraph to verify?" She tsked her teeth, "You're risking quite a lot here Mr. Bates."

"You'd be risking the same. However," John winced, "I'd allow we get one refusal. To protect ourselves, so to speak."

"What an option." She sipped from her glass again. "Alright, I submit to your rules but, since it's your idea, then you have to start by answering the three questions I have."

"Alright." John opened his hands toward her, "Do your worst."

"Oh," She sucked air through her teeth. "You're risking a lot if you give me that kind of latitude."

"It's worth the risk to me."

"Then first question," She leaned forward on the table, "Why become a policeman?"

"My friend, currently my superior, was leaving the Army and got himself a nice job with the Met. He invited me over to work under him and I couldn't say no."

"And you like it?"

"It has its perks."

"Getting away from the wife being one of them?"

John paused, "You realize that was your third question yes?"

"I chose my line of inquiry very carefully Mr. Bates." She brought the glass to her mouth, "You have a chance to refuse one question."

"It won't be this one because the answer's easy." John sucked the inside of his cheek, "Yes, the chief reason I love my job is it keeps me away from my wife."

"Seems a shame to be married to a woman who doesn't seem to appreciate or like you." Ms. Smith pointed to him, dragging her finger through the air as if to trace up and down him. "With all you have to offer I find it hard to understand how a woman could refuse it."

"You should meet my wife sometime."

"Hm," She shook her head, "Not a good idea. She might think I'm your mistress."

"She'd be hard pressed to think that."

"Would she?" She set her glass down, playing her fingers on the stem. "Would it be so hard to think you could find a woman interested in you for any of your numerous qualities?"

"She didn't marry me for any of those." John twitched his lip, "And technically that was a fourth question."

"You didn't have to answer."

"I find it hard to refuse you anything."

"Then would you refuse an offer?"

John raised an eyebrow, "What kind of offer?"

"Sex."

John choked, "Excuse me?"

"Sex."

"What?"

"If you need help, it means-"

"I know what it means." John held up a hand to stop her, "I just needed you to repeat what you said to make sure I heard it properly."

Ms. Smith snorted, "It's a small word."

"I know that."

"So did you?"

"Did I what?"

Ms. Smith laughed, "Did you hear it properly?"

"Yeah, I got it now. Thanks." John lowered his voice, darting his eyes about them. "As your spies already told you, and you've made very clear to me, you do know I have a wife."

She lowered her voice too, running her tongue over her bottom lip. "You know, it's not against the law to take a mistress."

"And have her take all my money in a divorce?" John shook his head, "I don't think so."

"She'd take all your money anyway."

"I'd have grounds to fight her then."

"You can't fight something like her." Ms. Smith took in a breath, "But you haven't got much money to lose to her anyway so the offer still stands."

"Even though you know it's my job to bring down your organization?" He gave a snort of his own, "That's daring."

"It's the world I live in." She winked at him. "Let me know if you chance your mind in future. I'm open to it if you are."

"I think I'll pass for the moment but I'm more than flattered Ms. Smith."

"I should hope so. It's not often I risk losing everything for a good shag in the sheets." She finished her glass, "I'll see you around then?"

"You will." John stood as well, "You owe me three questions."

"That I do Mr. Bates. That I do." She eyed him from head to toe and back. "And I look forward to answering them at your earliest convenience."

John watched her leave before returning to the street. He slipped into the Tube station, changed his trains, and finally exited near his building. Rolling his shoulders he entered the building and climbed the creaking stairs.

He pulled his keys loose and found the one to his door. Yanked the door closed, he jammed the key before turning part way to the right and then all the way to the left before pushing it open. It closed with a snap behind him and he jammed it with his shoulder to turn the deadbolt.

Tossing his keys into a dish on the broken cabinet in the hall, he walked toward the kitchen. The smoke choked him and he opened the window before turning to the woman sitting in the chair with a fag between her fingers. Waving the smoke away he choked a cough.

"Trying to burn us down?"

"Where were you Batesy?"

"At work."

"I doubt it." She stabbed the fag into a dish and blew out the last line of smoke. "You don't stay there this long."

"So I went for a drink." John leaned against the counter, "What of it?"

"And not to meet some girl?"

John scoffed, "Aren't you always telling me that no one will ever look twice at me? That you're the only one who'd take me? That only Vera Bates would have the pity to take someone like me?"

"That's true but…" Vera stood up, stalking toward him. "Even a blind squirrel finds a nut."

"Whatever Vera." John pushed past her, "I assume it's the sofa for me again?"

"If you'd like."

John stopped at the doorway, "Why don't we divorce Vera?"

"Why?"

"We hate each other. We hate this flat. We hate our lives…" John threw up his hands, "Why subject ourselves to ourselves anymore?"

"Because I couldn't let you off so easily." Vera cackled, "After all I suffered because of you do you really think I'd just let you go?"

"I guess I hoped you might." John sighed, "But I forgot who I was talking to."

"Don't forget again Batesy." Vera slipped by him into the hall. "Never again."


	3. Three Questions

John squinted through the field glasses before handing them over to Talbot. "That's it. The shipment customs tagged."

"They'll know we had a hand in it."

"No they won't." John soothed, "It's not even five minutes later than it should have been. Everything about it is as it should be."

"But it's not." Talbot warned, handing the field glasses back "I did do a little research last night."

"You mean when you didn't go home and get a life?"

Talbot ignored John's jab. "I found out that those three they nabbed in the Turkish business last year were patsies."

"I thought we knew that." John raised the glasses again as a car entered but lowered them a moment later when the car turned out to be just security.

"What we didn't know is that the Yorkshire chap they got for it was her cousin, a troubling Armenian, and the Armenian's brother."

"And that was bad how?"

"Well they were responsible for blowing a deal with the Turkish."

"You mean the ones who cocked it all up and then got themselves cuffed?"

"Those are the ones." Talbot hit the dashboard, "Here we go, here we go."

John sat up, holding the field glasses as a black car pulled close to the shipping container. "What is it with black cars? Why does everyone assume no one's going to notice you driving around in black car?"

"It's not like they're going to drive around in a banana. Black slips past the eye. No one notices them unless they're those black SUVs that they drive in American TV shows." Talbot pulled out a camera, taking pictures of the man who exited the car and consulted with the agent by the container. "I don't recognize him."

"He looks like that Irish guy they got six months before the Turkish fiasco." John adjusted the glasses. "Something about him has me feeling like deja vu."

"Me too." Talbot let the shutter click a few times, "But it's more like seeing someone you haven't seen since primary school."

"Like a distant relative?"

"You could say that." Talbot clicked a few more as the crate opened. "Maybe we need another go at our files for his face."

"Really?"

"Yes." Talbot lowered the camera, "There are a few of these that might actually be quite good."

"Maybe you made a mistake in profession Henry."

"A mistake?"

"Maybe you should've been a photographer." John pointed toward the crate. "He's moving."

"Without the guns," Talbot mused, "Maybe they didn't like the shipment?"

"No," John tapped the wheel before shaking his head. "He's not taking them because we've been spotted."

"There's no way they knew we were here." Talbot opened his hands, "We brought my car. It doesn't look anything like what we should be driving as policemen."

"Doesn't matter." John rubbed his eyes. "They've been following you too."

Talbot opened his mouth at John, "How do you know that?"

"Because they've been following me."

"How do you know this?"

"Ms. Smith told me."

Talbot banged his head on the steering wheel before draping his arms across it. "When were you going to tell me that we're being followed by the mafia?"

"It's not like you've got a life for them to know anything about."

"That's not fair and not justification enough to tell me why you thought it best not to mention we're being followed by the mafia."

"I didn't know you would be a point of interest for them." John sat back in the seat, slapping his hand against the dash. "I thought she only liked me."

Talbot twisted in his chair. "What the bloody hell does 'thought she only liked you' mean?"

"I-" John chewed his words carefully. "I had a conversation with her."

"An official conversation or something you did in your afterhours?"

"Afterhours."

"For shitssake John!" Talbot started up the car, "You've got us well and truly buggered haven't you?"

"It didn't do me much good but I did have a conversation with her. So what?"

"So what John?" Talbot wrenched the wheel and drove onto the main road. "So what?"

"Raising your voice while you repeat it does nothing."

"We're going to get thrown over a barrel and then buggered. That's the end of my career, John, and the end of yours. All of it up in smoke in a single move, your move, and I don't want to go down with your ship."

"We won't go down Henry."

"If you keep acting like an idiot we will." Talbot pulled to a stop outside the pub and pointed at the door. "You go in there, right now, and fix this or you won't have to worry about her bullets. You'll have to worry about mine."

John got out of the car and walked through the doors of the pub. The redhead at the bar smiled at him, pointing toward a table in a corner, and John took his seat. Within two minutes Ms. Smith slid into the space across from him, smile on her face.

"I wouldn't look so damn pleased with yourself."

"Why not?"

"Because now my partner's going to make sure I get good and buggered for how I cocked all this up."

"I didn't really see that as Mr. Talbot's style but I guess people surprise you." Ms. Smith grinned but John shook his head.

"I'm not kidding, Ms. Smith."

"You chose to stick your nose in my business, Mr. Bates. This is what happens." She leaned back against the wall, folding her arms over her chest. "You get what you pay for, as they say."

"Fine." John leaned over the table, "You still owe me three questions and I'm going to ask them now."

"I like a man who decides to be in charge." Ms. Smith leaned over the table until she was just an inch from his face. "Fire away but be warned, you only get three and I have a pass on any of my choosing."

"You get a pass on one, choose wisely."

Ms. Smith sucked the inside of her cheek and nodded, "Alright. Do as you will, Mr. Bates."

"What's your connection to the Turkish contingent?"

Ms. Smith's eyes widened with the rise in her eyebrows. "That's your first question?" John nodded and she whistled. "What a way to begin. No prelude or pretense, just right to the core of your investigation."

"If you think that's the core of my investigation you don't understand what we're doing at all." John smirked slightly, "Remember, you've got one pass."

Ms. Smith laughed, "I wouldn't waste it on something as simple as this."

"Then answer it."

"I got into the proverbial bed with the Turkish because I owed a favor to a friend. After the death of Kemal Pamuk I stepped in to keep the peace."

"And the delivery at the docks today?"

"Those are being hidden in a garage owned by someone who works for me because it's part of our deal with the Turkish."

"Then why risk all that by proposing a one-night stand with me?"

"Who said anything about only one night?" Ms. Smith shrugged a shoulder up, "I don't plan to only spend one night getting to know you."

"Answer the question or pass and I'll find another."

Ms. Smith kept her silence a moment before smiling. "I proposed it to you because I need your help, Mr. Bates. It's part of a larger proposal I've got to put to you."

"I won't risk asking a question you won't answer but I'll just assume that you'll explain what that means."

"Here's the plan, Mr. Bates." Ms. Smith sat back slightly. "I turn myself in to you, right now. You take me to your office and I give you a long list of my involvement with the Turkish. You use that to put them away, forever, and I get off clean."

"They'll never let you go."

"They will and you can stop trying to record me on your phone. We've got scramblers in here that won't give you anything but white noise."

John pulled out his phone and deleted the attempted recording. "How long did you know?"

"Since your partner booted your lovely ass in here to get us to stop following him in that obnoxious car of his." Ms. Smith chuckled, "It does suit him though, doesn't it."

"You're dodging the issue."

"No, I'm not." Ms. Smith cleared her throat. "I've got the paperwork to confirm that I was manipulated and the threatened by the Turkish to help them."

"You'll paint yourself the victim."

"It's what I am, Mr. Bates."

"I doubt that."

"Doubt all you want. The proof lies with me and I can put it all on the Turkish. The crate you saw at the docks, the weapons in the garage I'll give you the address to raid, and everything that went to shit after Mr. Pamuk died in the Grantham Hotel."

"Everything?"

"I don't make the offer lightly."

"And what do I get for agreeing to let you get the deal that gets you off scot free?"

"Your own freedom." Ms. Smith drew her finger in the air as if circling him. "For your compliance in this I can get a solicitor to deliver divorce papers to Mrs. Vera Bates that carry an ultimatum."

"She doesn't respond well to those."

"She will to this one."

John scoffed, "What makes you so sure?"

"If she doesn't, she'll lose her job with Mr. Carlisle because we'll publish the picture of the affair she's been having with him behind your back." Ms. Smith stopped as John's face did not fall as she expected. "You knew about it?"

"I'm not an idiot. For marrying her, maybe, but I'm not so blind that I didn't know what she's done since then."

"Then you'll be glad to know that she'll give you a quick divorce. I give it… three months, tops."

"Three months?"

"I've got some friends who can speed it through the system."

John sat back, thumping against the high seat. "Why?"

"That's five questions since you asked your last one."

"You didn't play fair yesterday with yours."

Ms. Smith waved a hand at the air, "I was making a point, Mr. Bates, not an accusation. I'd have thought a policeman like yourself could see the difference."

"Will you answer it?"

"Six, and the answer's simple: I wouldn't mind being your mistress but I think I'd like you better as my bitch instead."

"Excuse me?"

"Mr. Bates, the path after your divorce has two options." Ms. Smith ticked up on her fingers. "The first, we separate forever. You and Talbot get the proper adulations for closing the case. Maybe not how your Super wanted but enough to make them all happy enough to leave it be and close the case. I go on with what I do and nary will these two parties meet."

"Or?" John put his elbows on the table and bent toward her.

"Or," Ms. Smith leaned forward as well, running a finger along his jaw, "You come work for me. Obviously you'd still be a policeman but you'd get compensated for staying away from me and what I do."

"And sex, obviously."

"Obviously." She smiled, "If that's compensation enough for you but that's an individual concern."

"You're asking me to betray everything I swore to defend for sex?"

"If it makes you feel better then I can assure you that I don't run drugs or prostitutes."

"Just guns and crime."

"Mr. Bates." She dropped her hand, using both arms to hold herself up on the table. "There are neighborhoods where you don't go because you've learned to accept a level of crime there, yes?"

"It happens everywhere."

"Statement, not accusation." She wagged a finger at him, "Your wife's trained you to always defend yourself hasn't she?"

"It's definitely a learned habit."

"Well, I could help you unlearn it." She winked, "And yes, it does happen everywhere. But what if I told you that my work is to make that a thing of the past?"

"What, a perfect world?"

"I told you, I see a world of opportunities. Those are forged through passion, determination, and more than a little nerve."

"Which you've got in spades to have this conversation with me."

"I've got other things in spades too but that's contingent on you accepting my offer." Ms. Smith held her hand out, "What'll it be, Mr. Bates?"

John stared at her hand, extended across the table, and took a breath.


	4. Deals with the Devils of Our Natures

John tightened the handcuffs on her and she snorted, "The next time we have this conversation and these are involved, I do hope you mean to let me put the restraints on you."

"Because this is a discussion we should have at this moment."

"It was the deal we made when you shook my hand across that table."

"Oh that was the deal we made?" John scoffed, "I thought the deal we made was that nary the twain shall meet."

"It's up to you, Mr. Bates."

He shook his head, "Are you always this theatrical?"

"I'm watched all the time. I don't have the leisure of being anything but forward."

"And that's wise?"

"It is when you're not an idiot and I'm not an idiot." Ms. Smith held her arms forward, "At your leisure, Mr. Bates."

He grunted, taking hold of her shoulder to walk her out of the pub. The bartender stopped her work for a moment but Ms. Smith held her head high. John opened the back door of the car, ignoring Talbot turning almost all the way over the seat to stare at Ms. Smith in the back.

She smiled at him, holding up her handcuffed hands. "Yes, Mr. Talbot, he got me to confess."

"John?" Talbot almost leaned out of the car to talk to John as he closed the door. "What's going on John?"

"She's going to give us what we need to take down the Turkish." John walked in front of the car, taking his seat and holding up a hand to stop Talbot talking. "Don't talk to me, just drive."

Talbot scowled, turning the wheel to pull them into traffic. John leaned his arm on the window, brushing back and forth in his hair with a ferocity that risked pulling out clumps. All the while Ms. Smith stayed in the back seat, humming to herself.

"Could you not?" John turned to her, "It's better if it's quiet."

"Better for whom?" She pointed between the two of them, her handcuffs jangling slightly on her wrists. "You two need something to cut the tension here."

"You're not helping."

"I thought the whole arrangement here was because I was helping."

"Not right now." John bit out, shaking his head as Talbot ground his teeth. "What? This is what you wanted."

"I wanted her in the crosshairs or leaving us alone. Not in the back of my car where anyone could see her."

"Where else do we put her? The boot?"

"Fine by me." Talbot made a face.

"Not by me."

"No one asked you, Ms. Smith." Talbot looked at her in the mirror, "And how'd you know what car I drive?"

"I've a motorhead working for me and he saw it as his pleasure to follow your car, Mr. Talbot."

"You tell him, next time you see him, he can follow me right me to the police station next time and I'll give him a nice view of where I keep people who follow me." Talbot hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand, "You just had to go and talk to her."

"I thought Mr. Bates provided very stimulating conversation."

"I'm sure that's what he provided." Talbot glared at John, "What other services might _Mr. Bates_ have provided you?"

"Hey, I didn't do anything." John pointed at him, "Don't you dare suggest I did anything improper."

"You sodding went back to talk to her mate. After hours without me. What else am I supposed to think happened on the same night she's got people scoping London for my car?"

"Please Mr. Talbot, if I had seduced Mr. Bates you'd know."

"I don't need your approval on whether or not I know if my partner got his leg over."

"Excuse you!"

"No, John, excuse you." Talbot returned his furious gaze to the road, "When we get back to the office I'm requesting immediate reassignment. You're off your game old man."

"Go ahead and try to find a partner who'll take your maniac driving and your record."

"Watch it Bates."

"Who's going to make me?"

"I will if you don't clamp your jaw."

"I'd love to see you try." John fired back. "You couldn't take me on your best day."

"I could lay you out on the roadway without a second thought."

"Get your head out of your ass Henry."

"Gentlemen I think-"

"Shut it!" They both shouted Ms. Smith down before scowling at the road.

Talbot parked in the lot, pulling barely in the constraints of the lines, and slamming his door with unnecessary force. John rolled his eyes, pulling Ms. Smith from the back of the car by her elbow, and leading her inside with Talbot spitting behind him. They exchanged another round of glares before heading inside.

Robert noticed them, his jaw dropping in time with his recognition and Mary's raised eyebrows. John marched Ms. Smith along the hallway to one of the interrogation rooms, sitting her in the chair and unlocking the cuffs from her wrist to tuck them back into his pocket. She massaged the slightly chaffed skin and smiled at him.

"That face your boss made. Does his jaw always drop like that?"

"Don't speak unless someone asks you a question." John shook his head, "This is idiotic."

"We make the decisions that lead us where we want to go."

"And you want to go to prison?"

Ms. Smith snorted, "I'm not going to prison, Mr. Bates. People like me don't go to prison."

"Why not?"

"Because we're more dangerous inside than on a leash." She nodded at him, "You'd do well inside. Probably run the place or at least make them all scared of you."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. Three years and one death and they'd be tripping over themselves to stay out of your way."

Before John could respond the door opened and Robert entered. He could not even manage words, only point at Ms. Smith. John nodded and shrugged, stepping out of the way as the door opened again, Mary entering with a stack of files in her arms.

"The notorious Ms. Anna Smith."

"I'm flattered I found anyone's notice." She shifted in the chair, "But I think I got on the wrong radars and I'm here to set things straight."

"Are you?" Robert finally found his voice, taking the seat across from Ms. Smith. "And why should we believe you?"

"As I explained to your DI there, I was forced to work in the business I now occupy."

"By whom?"

"That's not how this goes." Ms. Smith held up a finger, "I promise you that I can give you everything you need to get rid of the Turkish, for good, and you promise me something in return."

"What's that Ms. Smith?"

"Immunity." She waited through Robert's laugh. "You joke but I'm very serious Chief Crawley. I won't risk my life, my limbs, or my business without a guarantee that you'll leave me be after I give you enough to bury them."

"You don't have that."

"Then you underestimate what a business woman can do when backed into a corner." She smiled, "I keep very meticulous records."

"Why?"

"After Kemal Pamuk died in the Grantham Hotel last year a friend of mine called me."

"Was this before or after it hit the news?" Mary kept her pen handy, taking notes in shorthand on a pad.

"Before but even if it had I wouldn't have known Mr. Pamuk from Adam then." Ms. Smith held herself high in the chair. "My friend only told me they needed help cleaning something. What I didn't expect was a crime scene."

"You cleaned the scene?"

"When there's a gun to your head, Chief Crawley you do little else."

"They held a gun to your head?" Mary stopped, humming a bit in approval, "They meant business then."

"Guns usually do." Ms. Smith waited a moment, "After that I couldn't escape their clutches. Between verbal threats and the physical ones it was all I could do not to drown in the requests."

"Which were?"

"No."

'No?" Robert turned to John, who could only shrug and shake his head. "No what, Ms. Smith?"

"There's nothing else for you until I get my deal in return."

"You want us to ignore your involvement in numerous criminal activities?"

"I want you to acknowledge that I made decisions under duress and therefore can't be held accountable for them. Moreover, realize that without what I can give you you'll never get the Turkish the way you want to. They'll just crawl right back into their spot and you won't be able to stop them." Ms. Smith sat back, "It's up to you."

"You can't be serious."

"As the grave, Chief Crawley."

"Bates," Robert flailed a hand at him, "You can't honestly tell me you believe her in all this."

"At this point, sir, we don't have a choice." John dropped his arms from their folded position over his chest, "Give her the deal and give the Super the Turkish like she wants."

"And let this one go scot free?"

"We've got nothing on her. With the Turkish gone she's nothing but a pub owner." John walked to the door, opening it. "She's nothing to us in the long run."

He walked out into the hall, leaning on the wall. Closing his eyes he leaned his head back, trying to think through what just happened. Someone cleared their throat near him and John opened his eyes to see Talbot standing there.

Both of them shuffled sheepishly a moment before Talbot stuck out his hand. "I'm sorry mate. I made some accusations I know can't be true. You'd never betray us and whatever you did it was for the good of this investigation"

John waited a beat before taking Talbot's hand, almost hating himself for it. "You were right to be suspicious. It's what makes you a good officer. One of the best I've ever trained or worked with."

"Better than the Chief?"

"Don't push it." John released Talbot's hand, jerking his head toward the interrogation room, "What do you really make of her?"

"She's smart. Almost too intelligent for her own good. If anything she'll probably trip herself up sometime in her own machinations."

"You think so?"

"We know she's got someone working for her here but that'll get her nabbed later." Talbot shrugged and John shook off the chill that ran down his spine. "In the end, everyone always gives over to self-preservation."

"That's what gets them to confess in there."

"That's right. They always confess in the end." John waved Talbot off, "Start on the report and I'll buy you a drink later."

"We have to buy the first round if the case is officially closed after today." Talbot laughed to himself, walking backwards away from John, "But you know, two cases closed in three days has to be a record."

"Not yet." John sighed to himself as Talbot went back to their desks. "Not yet."

"Not yet what?" John slipped on the wall in his hurry to pivot and face Mary. "Careful there Bates of you won't get your commendation."

"Commendation?"

"You just brought in the key witness to ruin the Turkish mafia in this country." Mary smiled at him, "That's impressive and the Chief'll say so to you when he's done in there."

"Then you should congratulate Talbot with something. He could use a little… appreciation from you."

Mary leveled a finger at John, "Say something like that to me again, John Bates, and I'll kick your ass so hard I'll have to wait a moment before I can finish handing it to you."

"I thought it was Talbot's ass you wanted."

Mary scowled, "Don't test me."

John held up his hands, "I won't. I'm not that stupid."

"Could've fooled me."

John snorted to himself but stood at attention as the door opened. Robert emerged and nodded at Mary. She hurried away while Robert waved John to his side. "Stay with her for now. We're getting the video camera to take the remainder of her statement."

"The room's not recorded?"

"Technical overhaul." Robert grunted, "Budget cuts for personnel but no end of funding for the people who want peephole cameras in every loo to watch you shit."

"It's the future sir."

"It's the bloody apocalypse." Robert rubbed a hand in his hair. "She drives a hard bargain but once we get the camera in there I'll send you and Talbot to verify her records and her story."

"Yes sir."

Robert jerked his thumb toward the room, "Get in there before she thinks she can walk out of here."

John entered the room again, taking Robert's vacated seat, and tried to hold Ms. Smith's gaze. She smiled at him, interlacing her fingers on the top of the table. "I told you it'd work."

"Careful what you say in here."

"Why? They have to get a video camera for me which means what we say, right now, is for our ears only." Ms. Smith ran her tongue over her teeth. "You don't seem very pleased."

"I was just reminded in the corridor that you already have mole here and that I made a deal to get myself out of a divorce that might've sold out everyone in that room so no, I'm not overly pleased."

"Give me some credit John." His eyebrows shot up and she laughed, "We're in a relationship now, Mr. Bates. I won't waste time pretending we're not and neither should you so, for now on, we're on a first name basis."

"Is that what happens when I make a deal with the devil?"

"I'm flattered you think that highly of me but no, this is what happens when we listen to the devils of our natures for our gains."

"Then, Anna, where do we go from here?"

"I'm going home, after this interview, and once you get the divorce you sold your soul for you'll join me there."

"Will I now?" John tried to restrain his bitter laugh, "I told you, I'm not the one-night stand type."

"Who said anything about just one night?"

"I'm not for sale."

"The deal we shook on at the table in my pub would say differently." Anna leaned back, "What you've done, what we've both done, is for our mutual interests."

"And when it's not?"

"Then we reassess. You were in the Army, weren't you? Didn't you have to reassess whenever everything went tits up?"

"No plan survives first contact with the enemy."

"There you go then," Her teeth were visible as her lips pulled back to smile. "We'll work our way through this."

"I won't sell them out."

"You already did."

John bit down hard on his jaw, "I won't work for you if you've already got someone here."

"I don't have a person here, John, I've got a man who wormed into your shitty system and we worked from the data." Anna tapped the table, "Remember, I'm very good with meticulous record keeping."

"I'm just a record now?"

"I'm hoping you break a few records for me."

"As your sex toy?"

"As my partner, John." Anna opened her hands to the room around them. "As patriotic as you are, as loyal, I'm sure you've looked at your tiny flat, your cramped desk, and your too-old car and wondered why you settled for all that."

"I don't need more than that."

"But you want more than that." She leaned over the table, "Be honest, the real reason you shook my hand at the pub is the same reason you'll shake my hand now."

"And why's that?"

"Because you're curious about the city that I see. You want to see it too because you're tired of the city you see." Anna extended her hand, "I can show you a new world, John."

He stared at her hand a second before standing up from the table. "I don't want your world."

"I didn't say 'my world' I said a 'new world'."

"What's the difference?"

"This one we make together. In our image." Anna clicked her tongue against her teeth, "Don't you want to see what that would be?"

John shook his head, "You really are the devil with all your deals and your temptations."

"Don't you want to dance with the devil, John?"

"I didn't before."

"And now?"

John took her hand, "Let's dance."

Her grin revealed all her teeth, her canines flashing. "We will."


	5. One for You, One for Me

John cracked his back, sitting up from the sofa and kicked the blanket back. His hand scrubbed over his face and in the distance he heard the spray of the shower in the bathroom. Pulling the blanket toward him to fold, he left it and the pillow in the chest that served as a coffee table in the sitting room before making his way into the kitchen.

The pot on the stove whistled by the time John managed to spit the last of his toothpaste down the sink and set his electric razor on the counter. Just as he lifted it off the stove Vera walked into the kitchen wearing her bathrobe. She grabbed the crunched box of cigarettes from the counter and pulled one out. Sticking the fag between her teeth and bent to light it on the gas from the stove before turning it off.

She sucked on it before blowing a stream in John's direction. He ignored her, adding the hot water to his tea and moving to the table. As he sat she used the rest of the hot water and doused the bag in her own cup.

"Are you going to be late from work again today?"

"Why would you care?"

"Keeping tabs on my husband is my job." She shot another stream toward the ceiling and blew on her tea. "And I noticed you've been spending a lot of time at the station."

"We're in the middle of a shit storm trying to take down a Turkish gang."

"And that's how you justify late hours for the last two weeks?"

"What about your late hours?" John finished the rest of his tea and put the cup in the sink. "I'm sure you don't really spend all that time at Carlisle's newspaper because your pay stub doesn't reflect it."

"What do you care about my pay stub?"

"Enough to know that if you don't start helping pay the rent here then we'll have to look for something smaller."

"Smaller than this shit hole?" She huffed, "How much smaller could it be?"

"Stop withholding your pay stub and you don't have to find out." John took his razor and toothbrush. "And you could actually offer to help clean this place once in awhile."

"What good would it do?"

"Try it and find out." John left his toothbrush and razor in the bathroom, snagging the rest of his clothes to hurry into them as he headed for the door.

Vera, still in her bathrobe, stood at the entry to the kitchen and let out another stream of smoke. "It's amazing that you try so hard."

"It's amazing that you don't try at all." John wrapped the tie around his neck and pulled his keys from the dish next to the door. "Wouldn't that be something?"

He left the building, taking the Tube to the station. The office was still dark as John clicked on his computer. A vibration in his pocket had him pulling out his mobile and pulling it to his ear without checking the name.

"John Bates speaking."

"Good morning Mr. Bates. Or, is it more polite to say 'DI Bates'? I'm never sure with these things."

John looked around the office, lowering his voice to hiss into the speaker. "It's more polite never to call at all."

"Ah, but when I've left you such a lovely gift?"

"What kind of gift could you leave me?"

"Check the incoming mail Mrs. Crawley'll leave you on your desk." The voice on the other end of the line laughed a bit, "I'm sure it'll help with your divorce problem."

"It takes two to tango in that, Ms. Smith."

"I know it does but I'm willing to help you find a new partner for it."

"Thank you for the offer but-"

"I wouldn't speak until you've seen what I sent you, Mr. Bates. Then you might just thank me by actually joining me in that tango."

John rolled his eyes, "I guess we'll see."

"I guess we will. Call me when you're ready."

The line went dead and John tossed his mobile onto the desk. He pushed back, running a hand through his hair to grasp it tightly and tug it as if he wanted to pull it loose. As he went back to his desk an envelope dropped onto his keyboard.

John turned up to see Mary, sorting through the other mail to leave a stack of it on Talbot's desk, and pushing her cart away. Holding up the envelope, and tripping slightly on the legs of his wheeled desk chair, John followed her. He collided with the cart and Mary glared at him.

"This may not be the most glamorous part of my job but I'd rather get it done before I have to deal with the rest of the office."

"Where'd you get this?" John held up the envelope, feeling the weight and slide of the contents.

"From the postman, same as I get all the rest of it." Mary tried to push the cart away but John stopped her. "Really?"

"There's no return address."

"That's not my problem."

"But you don't know who gave it to you?"

Mary let out a beleaguered sigh, "It was in the pile with the rest of them so I've truly no idea and about now, I don't care." She adjusted the cart and pushed past him, "If you don't mind, I'm getting back to my job as I suggest you get back to yours."

John sighed, stepping away from her and slipping his finger through the seal of the envelope to shake the contents into his hand. He dropped back into his seat and let the envelope flutter to the desk before truly taking stock of the photos in his hand. Frowning, John flipped through the photos until he reached the end of them. They scattered over the space and he seized the envelope to investigate the papers inside.

The slim letter attached to a stack of legal documents drew John's eye and he all but tore it from the pile.

 _Dear Mr. Bates,_

 _It's out pleasure to inform you that we've more information than the photographs provided with these legal documents to detail your wife's rather clichéd affair with her boss, Mr. Richard Carlisle._

 _Enclosed you will find the processed paperwork awaiting your signature for immediate filing for divorce proceedings. Once completed a courier- whose number is provided below- will carry your request directly to the nearest clerk for filing. The photographs are yours to keep as we already possess copies for our records and another set has already been sent to your wife and should arrive this morning._

 _We hope you have a pleasant day._

 _Signed,_

 _The Offices of Gillingham, Napier, and Murray._

John glanced over the forms, eyes focusing on the tabbed locations for his signature. His hand, trembling, hovered over a pen. With a dash of courage he signed and initialed at all the appropriate locations before reaching for his mobile.

His hand never reached it as something heavy came down on his desk. John tipped back in his chair, hitting the floor hard on his shoulder and hip, but rolled from the golf club swinging toward his head. It dented the leg of Talbot's desk and John scrambled to stand and face his attacker.

Holding his hands in front of himself John blinked in unbelief. "Vera?"

"Who else did you think it would be your backstabbing bastard?" She swung the club again, knocking into his computer and smashing the screen so the image pixelated into a rainbow of confused colors. "When'd you find time to get a PI to follow me?"

"What?"

"Those pictures, dammit! When did you find the time and where'd you find the money?" She raged with the club, cracking the glass of Robert's office window before leveling the club at John. "I want to know how long you've been following me."

"I wasn't."

"Then how'd you get the pictures?" John ducked another swipe, using he and Talbot's desks to put a barrier between Vera and himself but she just crushed the consoles in her way, sending sparks and shards everywhere. "How'd you find out about us?"

"Someone did it for me. I'm as surprised as you are."

"Are you?" She snatched the papers from his desk, scattering the pictures, envelope, and the letter to the floor so she could shake the divorce papers in his face. "Then what are these?"

"They came with the pictures." John pointed to the envelope."

"Did your whore send them?"

"What?"

"That little blonde bit you've been seeing at her pub?"

John frowned and then pointed his own finger at Vera. "You've been following me?"

"Had to know where you've been putting it since you've not come crawling to my door lately."

"I've never crawled to you." John glared at Vera, "I've more dignity than to beg anything from you."

"That's not what you said the last time you had me on my back."

"That was two years ago, I'll have you know, and you're the one who stopped that, not me." John threw up his hands, "You want to blame anyone for what's about to happen here you blame yourself."

"Then how long's it been going on with you and that little thing?"

"She's an informant helping us with the case I told you about this morning."

"Right," Vera snorted, waving the club around, "Because that's all it is between the two of you."

"I'm a professional, Vera, unlike yourself." John gestured to the club, "Did Richard lend that to you the last time you put your legs in the air for him."

"How dare you?!"

"How dare I?" John laughed, "The adulteress is about to give me lessons on morality."

"You can't prove it."

"I don't have to. The pictures do and so does that club."

"It's yours."

"No, it's not because we don't have any because I don't golf and neither do you." John sprinted around the desks faster than Vera could follow and tore the club away from her before ripping the papers from her hands. "Now get out before I arrest you for assault and destruction of public property."

"Like it'd ever stick. They'd think you were just trying to get rid of your wife."

John pointed to the ceiling and watched Vera's scowl turn practically putrid. "Cameras, dear. They've been on the whole time so I don't have to do anything but be present when they arrest you and hopefully toss your ungrateful, cheating ass in a cell."

Vera wrenched herself away from her, a shaking finger practically taking out his eyeball in her desire to put it in his face. "I'm not finished with you, John Bates. I'll take you for everything you have."

"Like the shit flat and my even shittier pension?" John laughed, "Good luck."

Vera spit at him and John turned his head in time to only catch it on his cheek. He pulled the shoulder of his shirt up to wipe it away as Vera stomped out of the office. With a sigh he dropped the papers and club on his desk, reaching through the debris for his phone.

He let out a cracked sighed when he noted the crushed screen and tossed it back onto his desk before perching himself on the edge of it. The squeal of Mary's cart alerted him to her presence but he kept his focus on the ground as her attempts to make words only let puffs of exasperated air escape her lungs. Only the whistle of commiseration from Talbot raised his head.

"Did you just decide 'to hell with it' and break everything in the office?"

"No, this would be the work of my soon-to-be ex-wife."

"Couldn't she've waited until they served her the papers to rain hell on public property?" Talbot inspected the computers. "At least it's just the screens and not the CPUs. They'd never agree to spend enough to replace it and send us to the library."

"Or we should have you bring your own laptops from home." All heads turned to see Robert, coat over his arm as he inspected the cracked glass of his office. "Though I know John's is about as shit as they come so it'd work as well as his computer right now."

"Sir, I can explain." John raised a hand but Robert stopped him with a shake of his head.

"Don't bother. Security told me all about it." Robert shrugged a shoulder behind him. "They're releasing her now but the office'll file charges on her if you want to go and tell her yourself."

"I think it'd be best coming from me since it's my head she'll want." John went toward the door, pointing back at the club. "That's the weapon, in case there's any confusion."

"I know what a nine-iron can do when someone wields it with authority John." Robert cringed, "My wife almost clubbed me with one when she went after a man who came onto her in our home."

John snorted, heading toward the front of the building. The security guards had Vera by both arms, pushing her out the doors as John reached them. Clapping one on the shoulder he nodded and both turned back.

Vera sneered at him, "Come to gloat?"

"You brought this on yourself." John took a breath, "I'm here, on behalf of the Met, to inform you that we'll be pressing charges for the damage you caused."

"And you?" She looked him up and down, "Are you going to tell them a woman attacked you?"

"It's not important."

"Why? Because you never told them before?" Vera cackled, "They'd never believe a big, strong, ex-Army man like you would fall to the onslaught of a helpless woman like me."

John bit down on his jaw, the muscle in his cheek tremoring with the effort to keep his voice level. "Regardless of what people would or wouldn't believe about the abuse you caused me in all our years of marriage, it'll never hide the fact that you're not helpless and never have been. You're a conniving bitch who's tricks've all run out."

"How long've you been waiting to say that to be Batesy?"

"Too long." John pointed to the street, "Now get lost. Back to the flat or Carlisle or wherever else you crawl during the day but I expect you to be away from here and out of the flat by five this afternoon."

"Right." Vera stepped away from John, her back to the street, "Because you'll follow through with that like you have everything else?"

"I'm serious." John twitched at the sound of a honking horn and turned toward it. "Vera?"

"Don't lose it now John," She sneered at him, still moving backward toward the street, "I might think you're just trying a power play to get me all hot and bothered."

"No, stop!" John rushed forward, his hand out, but it was too late.

Vera stepped off the curb as the lorry careened around another car. Even slamming in the breaks did nothing to stop the velocity of the truck. And Vera looked too late.

John watched in horror as her body rolled over the street. The driver rushed out, someone else shouted for an ambulance, and the security officers from inside the building hurried outside. Even the scream of sirens did little to wake John from the stupor of what he witnessed.

It was not until later, after Talbot left him to find another Styrofoam cup of lukewarm piss hospital canteens insisted was tea, that John even realized he blinked. He looked up, noting the white coat of a doctor and hurried to stand, pulling at his shirt and coat that now crackled with the dried blood there.

"Mr. Bates?"

"That's right."

"We did all we could in surgery but the damage was too much. Her heart gave out on us twice on the table and after the third time we couldn't revive her." The Doctor's mustache twitched as he faced John. His hand touched John's shoulder but John wondered if the awkwardness in the man's touch could be returned in the lack of feeling John managed for it. "We're sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." He intoned, nodding and sidestepping to escape the grip. "If I could have a moment."

"Of course. There's a chapel, if you'd like."

"I think I should."

John followed his directions and entered the chapel to see only one other occupant. He took a seat on the opposite side, trying not to disturb the other individual but started when the woman turned her head and he recognized Anna. She smiled at him but the expression dropped when he rounded on her and yanked her to her feet with his hands in the lapels of the coat she wore.

"What did you do?"

"What I promised." She detached his hands, shrugging her shoulders to resettle the coat. "I gave you the divorce you wanted by supplying the evidence you needed for it."

"And sending copies of it to my wife?"

"That was the decision of the lawyers, not me."

John snorted, "Like you didn't have a hand in that."

"I never said I didn't but I won't take credit where it's not due and the idea to inform her of not only what they had but their intentions is common practice at that firm." Anna raised a shoulder, "Prevents anyone making stupid decisions and accusations about false claims or trying for expensive countersuits."

"You've got it all handled, don't you?"

"I wouldn't be very good at my business if I didn't, John."

He raised a hand toward the door, "And that? Her body lying broken and bloodied all over the operating table?"

"That was bad luck."

"Don't give me that shit."

"What shit, John?"

"That you couldn't get a guy to drive his lorry right into my wife."

"Even if I did, which is ridiculous because the timing and the arranging that would take is preposterous, why bother when you'd have been free of her in a few weeks time anyway?"

"Doesn't mean you wouldn't try to tie up loose ends."

"That's what this is for." Anna pulled a folded set of documents from her bag and held them out to John but he backpedaled from it. "What do you think I did John? Lace them with poison or invent the worlds' smallest bomb to squeeze between the pages?"

"Last time I opened something from you it blew up in my face."

Anna gave him a half-smile, "I appreciate the metaphor but your wife going for a borrowed golf club wasn't a reaction I intended."

"But you intended something."

"I did, yes. But it had more to do with a divorce and the chance at seeing what you could do in a bedroom than watching you mourn over the adulteress witch in your life."

"That's my wife you're talking about."

"And we both know she wouldn't spare you one word of compassion or grief if your places were reversed." Anna extended the papers to him. "Please don't be so boring as to belief she's an angel now that she's facing St. Peter at the Pearly Gates."

"I'm not an idiot."

"This conversation is all evidence to the contrary." John took the papers from her hand and unfolded them to read as Anna continued speaking. "It seems that your wife, for all her other nonexistent charms, also decided to worm her way into Richard Carlisle's business and not just his bed."

"She worked as his secretary."

"I'm sure all secretaries enjoy his Egyptian cotton sheets but that's not the work she did for him." Anna pointed at the papers with a nod of her head. "I'm sure you're aware that your wife associated with some less than reputable characters."

"I'm aware."

"Turns out some of them had ties to the IRA and a few Irish organizations that prefer to remain nameless."

John frowned as he turned the page, "And?"

"She was making the introductions needed to align Mr. Carlisle's front of a company with theirs to legitimaize operations for a money laundering scheme." Anna folded her arms over her chest. "It seems Mr. Carlisle's been in bed with not just your wife but also the Scottish mob… which I admit isn't a phrase you hear often but I've always thought the kilt a little more dangerous than you're led to believe on first blush."

"I can't use any of this." John held up the paper, "It's all supposition and illegal investigation. Poisoned fruit."

"I'm already helping you end the Turkish contingent, John." Anna took a step closer to him, "Don't you think I'd want to help you end Mr. Carlisle as well?"

"It'll be too convenient."

"Not if I can prove his connection to the Turkish."

John narrowed his eyes, "Now you're just playing with me."

"Mr. Bates, if I wanted to play with you," Her fingers trailed up his shirt buttons to tap at his chin. "I'd have you strapped to a bed with a blindfold on. Tempting you with information and dangling a jail sentence for your wife's lover isn't really my style of sexual torture."

"And this proof, does it come gift wrapped or does it actually look believable to the outside observer?"

Anna laughed, stepping away from John, "Give me some credit, John, I was born in the morning but not this morning. I'm not an amateur at this."

"That's what worries me."

She only chuckled, heading for the door of the chapel before turning back to him. "And while I appreciate there's an appropriate waiting period after one looses their spouse, to date again… I'd rather you didn't wait too long for that."

"In a hurry to get me blindfolded in a room?"

"I've had quite a few salacious thoughts, Mr. Bates, and there's just going to waste up here." Anna tapped a finger to her temple and pulled the door open, "My condolences for your loss, Mr. Bates."

John watched her leave before sinking down on the chair in the chapel.


	6. All Boats Rise

He held his head high as Robert pinned the commendation to his suit jacket and shook the offered hand to the chorus of claps and flashing bulbs. Robert pulled back and John felt Talbot's breath near his ear. "When comes the point where I actually look forward to this more than the promise of drinking afterward?"

"Never."

The press conference died away and John finished shaking the congratulatory hands as he made his way toward the back of the room. Anna stood there, arms crossed over her chest, and a smile on her face. She pointed to the medal pinned to his lapel and gave an approving snort.

"I don't suppose you'd be open to wearing that on another occasion? One with fewer witnesses?"

"Considering it's ill-gotten gains I plan to chuck it into the Thames as soon as I can." John glanced around, making sure no one paid them any mind. "I didn't see you at the funeral."

"I thought it'd be bad manners since you think I hired someone to kill your wife." Anna shrugged, "Tradition and propriety seem to dictate that the suspected murderer shouldn't appear at the funeral. Makes one look guilty."

"You said you didn't do it."

"You didn't believe me." Anna raised her chin slightly, "What would I have to do to convince you that I won't lie to you?"

"A lot more than simply hand over your secret ledgers."

Anna pointed to the podium at the front of the room, "Given the show I just endured I'd say those ledgers made you a hero, John Bates."

"And they freed a criminal."

"Those are strong words."

"Appropriate words."

"I do hope this continues." Anna wagged her finger between the two of them, "This bitter hostility means that our chemistry in the bedroom'll be electric."

"That's a myth of nineties rom-coms."

"Art imitates life as life imitates art, Mr. Bates. It's a perpetuating cycle." Anna took a deep breath, "Though, I do admit, there've been more than enough people try to convince me of a spark I knew was bullocks but that's neither here nor there."

"What do you want, Ms. Smith?"

"To give you this."

She handed over a folder and John ran his finger under the seam to break it and pull the documents from inside out. He frowned at them, flipping through them before shaking them at her. "Where'd you get these?"

"The question isn't where I got them but how you didn't find them." Anna snorted, "Honestly, you've been packing your wife's things for a week and you didn't find the work she brought home with her?"

"They said there wasn't anything in her desk of a personal nature."

"Then be glad I've got three lawyers who are more than willing to call bullshit on that." Anna tapped the papers, "These are just some of the documents their investigators pulled from the desk of Vera Bates before Mr. Carlisle's company tried to get rid of them. The rest are all boxed and delivered to your desk at the office. Where I suspect your partner is already opening them."

John lowered the papers and narrowed his eyes at Anna, "Why?"

"He's a naturally curious person and he won't be able to resist the directive that the contents are for your eyes only."

"No," John shook his head, "Why are you giving me this?"

"Because I'm trying to prove that we can work on this together. That we can be equal partners in this."

"We're not equal."

"I didn't say we were." Anna nodded at the papers, "I do wish I didn't have to continually prove myself to you but it seems I'm forced to show you that when I shook your hand I meant it."

"Meant for me to be your bitch, if I remember how that conversation unfolded."

"Yes," Anna smiled, "I am looking forward to that part."

"There's only one problem." John stepped closer to her, "I don't trust you."

"Nor should you, under different circumstances, but you've walked the line and tumbled into a new world. One where we care for our own."

"The Met and the Army taught me that."

"Then you'll be old hat at this."

John shook his head, "Say we follow this path to its logical conclusion, me working for you. Say we even follow your invitation and decide to shag like rabbits for a bit. Then what?"

"I hope you're not asking my five-year-plan."

"I'm asking what you're going to do for me when they find out I'm shagging you. Forget working for you, since that'll land me in prison. I'm talking about the ethical impropriety of me seeking a romantic relationship with an informant."

She shook her head, "You've a marvelous habit of only ever seeing the dismal and horrible in every situation don't you?"

"I see the reality of it."

"You're a cynic, not a realist, Mr. Bates. Don't demean either of our intelligence by suggesting otherwise."

"And what else should I suggest? That you and I ride off into the sunset together and live happily ever after?"

"I'm not so foolish as to suggest we're at that stage but I could see it as a genuine possibility." Anna took her coat off her arms and threaded her arms through the sleeves. "Think about what I've given you John. Think about what we can do, together, and then call me when you're tired of fighting with yourself about this."

"Because you're the good guy?"

"Because it's boring." Anna scoffed, "You're moving out of your flat because it bores you. You're thinking about giving up on your job because it bores you. You're having this conversation with me, even though it bores you, because you've this incredibly noble spirit. I find that attractive, I truly do, but constantly sabotaging your happiness and your own desires because you feel compelled to always be so bloody noble is boring."

"You'd have me change who I am?"

"I'd have you admit that's not all you are." Anna risked a step toward him, almost taunting in her expression. "Don't tell me the passionate man who married a woman he met three weeks before the date at the registrar died in the ten years he forced himself to shackle to her side."

She raised a hand, her middle finger barely gracing his cheek. "Is he still in there somewhere, hiding perhaps?" Lowering her hand, Anna sighed, "But maybe you already killed him."

John swallowed and took another glance around the empty room. Windows set high in the walls cast light down but did not allow anyone to see out. The only other door to the room was already closed and John quickly snapped the one nearest them shut.

"He's not dead." John backed Anna toward the wall, noting the darkening in her eyes when he crowded her there. "He just needs to be resurrected."

"I'm more than happy to oblige."

John bent his head and seized her mouth. Anna's fingers crunched in the lapels of his coat while his hands took position at her neck and waist. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it before teething it.

Anna moaned into his mouth and John pressed her to the wall, his hips meeting hers while guiding his head sideways. Her hands eased up his shirt, tugging on his tie, and holding him in place as she took control of the kiss. John felt helpless under her command and submitted, whether by choice or force he could not tell, until sounds outside the room forced them away from one another.

She sighed, taking deep breaths to match his own, and smiled. "I guess that means you'll stop self-flagellating and actually let yourself enjoy some hedonism for a time?"

"Does that mean you still want me, Ms. Smith?"

"Mr. Bates," Anna adjusted his tie, tightening it before running a finger over his collar. "I couldn't be more sure of that desire than at this moment."

John shuffled, "And how…" He cleared his throat, "How, exactly, is it that you want me?"

"All the time in every position and place imaginable." Anna licked her lips as they could not help upturning into a smile. "But, preferably, on your back with me riding you until I come screaming your name and you scream mine. If we can manage it."

He frowned, "I don't scream."

"We'll see about that." Anna flicked her finger at the papers John forgot he still held in his hands, crinkled from pressing against her when he held her. "But, for now, we'll be working out how to take down Mr. Carlisle."

"And then you'll have your way with me?"

"How can you be sure it won't be you having your way with me?" Anna winked at him, "I look forward to the moment Chief Crawley has to call me to testify for the Carlisle case."

"But what-" John paused, "When we shook, on our deal, you said I'd work for you. What does that entail?"

"What makes you think I'm not going to just ask for you to clean up my competition?"

"Doesn't seem the style of someone as skilled as yourself. And definitely not in the interests of someone who wants to run her own organization."

He almost did not recognize the way her face flashed a moment. The emotion looked so foreign there he could not claim it to be fear or terror but he thought it might resemble panic. But in the same instant he struggled to recognize it, the expression vanished and Anna's satisfied smile returned.

"I'm not so ambitious, Mr. Bates." She mocked a curtsey to him, "I'll call you later Mr. Bates."

John's brow furrowed all the way back to his desk. He dropped the papers there, leaning his elbow on the arm of his sagging, creaking chair. His chin fit the slot his hand created and he stared blankly at the dark monitor in front of him.

It was not until something heavy thumped on his desk that John jumped to attention. Talbot leaned over the boxes, tapping on one before starting up a tattoo that drummed his long fingers over the cardboard. John shrugged at him and Talbot sighed.

"I'm guessing it would be beyond false hope to suggest that there's chocolate in here for the whole office."

"I wouldn't think so." John lifted the lid and scowled at Talbot, "You already opened it."

"I thought you knew that, as your partner, what's mine is yours." Talbot rested back in his chair, slotting his long legs on the desk, "Or, in most cases, it's more of what's yours is mine but it could go both ways."

"Opening other people's mail is a crime."

"Not if they're not explicitly addressed to you." Talbot drew his finger in an imaginary line under the inscription. "It reads 'care of John Bates' with this address. Meaning they'd like it to go to you but they'll satisfy themselves with someone else if you're not available."

"I am available."

"That hint of someone else's lipstick on your face says otherwise." Talbot indicated on his own cheek and John dug in a drawer for a wet wipe. "Who's the lucky lady who finally made you a lucky man?"

"It was just a kiss, Talbot."

"More than you've had in a year." He frowned, "No, two years. As long as I've known you you've needed to get laid."

"Who says?" John dug through the files in the box.

"Everyone who's seen you in a perpetual state of dissatisfaction." Talbot kicked off his desk and stood next to John, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I think whomever left that line of lovely pink on your lips should help you resolve that little problem."

"If you knew who left this," John used the screen on his phone to wipe the rest of it away. "You wouldn't be so proud."

Talbot froze, dropping the lid to one of the boxes on the floor, "You're shitting me right now."

"No."

"John," Talbot hissed, lowering his voice as others passed, "Are you bloody mad? Cavorting with a known criminal?"

"She has immunity."

"She's still a person of interest in the case we're-" Talbot stopped, "What are these?"

"I thought you looked at them?"

"No, I only opened them." Talbot thumbed through a file, "If these are gifts from your illicit paramour then she really hated your wife."

"I don't think it's that personal."

"Woman snogged you on police property and eyes you down like you're going to be her next meal every time she sees you." Talbot pointed a finger at John, "You don't walk blindly into the lion's den John."

"She did mention there might be blindfolds."

"So help me if you-"

"I'd like to remind you, John," Talbot and John jumped slightly as Mary appeared, a line of officers toting boxes behind her. "You can't have your personal mail delivered here."

"It's not personal." John showed Mary the file in his hands, "This is a case."

"Even so, please have it shipped under the proper address." Mary turned to Talbot, "Do I have something on my face?"

"Other than your gorgeous smile I don't think so."

Mary groaned, "Do I need to invite the lovely woman from HR to help us engage in another meeting about appropriate workplace etiquette?"

"Would I get to sit next to you?" Mary rolled her eyes and walked away as Talbot called after her. "I'm guessing that means you'll let me buy you a drink at the party tonight?"

"It's open bar, no one's buying anyone's drinks." John hefted one of the boxes and summoned the uniformed officers to place them in a stack by his desk. "At this rate we'll only just get there by last call."

Talbot slumped into his seat, "I hate your new girlfriend."

"You just hate that you don't have one."

"Same difference." Talbot leveled his hand at John across their desk, "She's trouble and she'll rain it all down on our heads if we're not careful."

"Then we'll be careful." John handed Talbot a file, "Get reading."


	7. Onto the Breach

They hurried into the pub, raising their hands to acknowledge the cheers as the occupants raised their glasses to them. Some frothed and spilled over onto the floor while others only clinked their emptiness. John pushed Talbot toward a group already tugging on his sleeve and wound toward the back of the pub to find a corner.

He settled into the booth, waving at those still uttering their congratulations, and rested his head back on the wood before letting out a deep sigh. The slight weight of someone sitting across from him did not immediately rouse his faculties but the voice there did. "Already exhausted Mr. Bates?"

John's eyes flew open to see the self-satisfied smirk of Anna Smith. His eyes darted about him to assess the situation and then leaned over the table to hiss at her, "What are you doing here?"

"It's a public place and there was talk of a party." Anna winked at him, "I'm a riot at parties, in case you didn't know."

"I thought there'd be a degree of discretion to your suggested arrangement."

"And there is." She let her devious grin etch over her face. "There's also a bit of madness to it but that just makes it all the more fun."

"What do you want?"

"I thought I told you." Anna frowned, "Wasn't I clear when I said 'all the time in every position and place possible'."

"I thought it was hyperbole."

"Not for someone who's not had sex in a very long time."

John cringed, "I'd rather you didn't throw that in my face."

Anna snickered, "What makes you think I'm talking about you right now?"

"Because…" John trailed off a second before raising a finger, "You've not had-"

"It takes a certain kind of man not to immediately cower in fear at the kind of woman I am." Anna interlaced her fingers and used them as a platform to rest her chin. "Did you like the gifts I sent to your office?"

"I'd like it better if your lawyers hadn't combed through everything ahead of time and Talbot wishes you'd given the case to someone else."

"I'm your informant now." Anna shrugged up her shoulders, smile still taking up most of her face. "Wouldn't he hate it more if I passed it to someone else? Gave the chance of glory to someone else?"

"Henry doesn't care about the glory. He wants his drinks to celebrate and a chance to date the girl in our office."

"Seems cruel you'd deny me the same privilege." Anna sat up, pressing herself back to the booth. "But I do want to make one thing about our arrangement perfectly clear Mr. Bates."

"And what's that?"

"That you need to believe what I tell you."

John guffawed, "That's lunacy."

"Why?"

"Because you're the head of your own little mafia syndicate." John pointed a finger around the room at the raucous but harmless policemen singing together. "Any one of them'd give their eyeteeth to take you down."

"And yet I handed myself over without a fuss to you." Anna's eyes flashed, "Doesn't that tell you that you can trust me?"

"Not when everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie."

Anna put a hand to her chest, "I find that very hurtful."

"The Bible says the wicked take the truth to be hard."

"Then let me set your record straight," Anna tapped a finger on the table between them. "Not everything I say is a lie and nothing I say to you will ever be a lie."

"And I can take that to the bank can I?"

"And collect interest on it."

John eyed her, "Why should I believe you?"

"Because you want to. More than anything." Anna grinned and leaned back enough to peek under the table. "And it's not just because you're already rising to full mast."

"That's not-" john struggled with words and then to recite the names of Baroque composers while Anna chuckled.

"Not what? Not a compliment because I take it to be very much a compliment. Especially given your rather engaging kiss earlier this afternoon." Anna pushed her way out of the booth. "Now I'll admit it's harder to indicate your interest when you're a woman and not gifted with… obvious bodily signals. However…"

Anna bent forward, while all the attention at the bar was focused on Talbot giving some sort of play-by-play of their precinct rugby match, and whispered in John's ear. "I'm pretty sure I'm already ready for you."

John thought the air took on a new weight and the heat of the room intensified as Anna stepped away from him like she had shared nothing more significant than the scores from the last match of a football game. She cracked her neck and ran a hand through her hair. "If you're available, come to this address."

She laid a card on the table and walked her way out of the bar. John picked up the car, turning it over in his hands, and then stowed it in his jacket pocket as a man sat down across from him. Taking a peek about him, John did not notice anyone else looking in their direction and frowned at the man.

"Are you lost?"

"I don't think so." The man's cheap leather jacket and the rather gaudy gold chain around his neck matched a very horrible cliché only heighted by the strong accent to his voice. "My name is Alex."

"Is that short for Alexi or is it short for Alexandr? I never know with Russians." John pulled out his phone, pretending to be interested in responding to a text while snapping a picture and then stowing the phone away again. "And I'd hate to be rude and ruin your name in my pronunciation."

"I'm Chechen."

"My condolences." John went to move out of the booth but the man's leg stopped his. "Look, friend, for as honored as I am you sought me out in this bar I don't think I'm the kind of company you're looking for. I'm flattered but not interested."

Alex frowned and then glowered. "You think I'm hitting on you."

"You tell me. You're the one playing footsie under the table."

"We're not playing football."

"No, it's-" john stopped himself explaining the intricacies of the reference. "What do you want if it's not a shag in the men's room?"

"I want to know what the blonde said to you."

"It's none of your business."

"It is my business if she arranged a little… shag of her own."

"What are you, her pimp?"

Alex's lip twitched up in a grin that set John's teeth on edge. "Something like that."

"Then I think the next conversation we have'll be across a very different table from this one that includes standard issue handcuffs not used for recreational activities."

"Prostitution's not illegal in this country."

"Pimping is." John kicked Alex'a leg aside. "And if you ever try to get information out of me again, for any reason, I'll take you to the men's room for a completely different reason."

"You're her great defender are you?"

John snorted, "I doubt she needs a defender since she's pretty well taken care of on her own but I'd like to think I at least respect her."

"You're the one running off to shag her."

"I'm not shagging anyone tonight." John nodded his head at the man, "And even if I were, sex isn't a crime. Exchange of goods and services."

"Then why not let me in on the exchange?"

"I don't do three ways and I'm not interested in voyeurs. Spoils the mood for me." Alex went to get up but John put a strong hand on his shoulder and forced him back into the seat. "I'd advise you stay right here for the rest of your night and then crawl back to whatever hole you call yours. 'Kay?"

John worked through the crowd to Talbot, swaying a bit on his feet but still speaking in coherent and complete sentences, and clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm going to head out."

"Why? There's nothing waiting for you at home but boxes."

"Because I want sleep and we've still got work tomorrow." John patted his partner on the shoulder. "You'll regret too many more of those in the morning you know."

"I'm ready for the flak." Talbot took another one and drained it in a go, to the excited cheers of those about him. "Here's to us!"

John smiled to himself and left the pub.

His walk to the Tube station cleared his mind and he pulled out his phone. There, in his pictures, was the face of the man who called himself 'Alex'. John texted the picture to a number and added a question mark. The bubbles of a response came up and then vanished. It happened one more time before a blocked number rang.

Sliding the indicator over, John brought the phone to his ear. "Couldn't you ever call an old friend from your home number or something like we're having a normal chat?"

"Not sure normal chats mean I'm watching your through CCTV." John turned a circle and then waved at the camera pointing down at him. "Tosser."

"It's the only way I ever see you. Through the scope of Big Brother."

"Don't be so dystopian."

"If you say something about it 'being for my good' I might just hang up on you."

"Go ahead. You're the one with the mysterious Russian as your screen saver."

"Chechen, actually, as he corrected me." John walked along, kicking at a smashed can on the pavement. "Gave me the name of Alex and tried to say he was a pimp for someone."

"It's possible. There's a group of them running a sex trafficking ring we're getting close to busting over in the West End. Covers it up like they're stag hands and chorus girls."

"No," John shook his head, looking up before crossing a street. "This woman's not the type to be pimped out by anyone. If she wants sex she'll ask for it, not solicit."

"Speaking from experience?"

"I do occasionally attract the opposite sex you know."

"I know you did when we served together."

John sighed, "Wow, I never thought Charles Blake would stoop to making me feel low when I said I found someone who wanted to use me for sex."

"If you feel low maybe it's because something else isn't up."

"It was for her."

"Perky little blondes tend to do that."

"She's not perky." John frowned, "And other than as a description o her stature, the 'little' really doesn't fit either."

"Find yourself a unicorn then?"

"She might be."

"Except for the Russian pimp."

"Chechen."

"Right." There was a soft ping in the background. "You're in luck though. He's in our system but not for sex trafficking."

"What's he in for?"

"Looks like loan sharking and racketeering. Standard money stuff. Boring for a man they think might've served time." Another ping followed a steady clack of keyboard keys. "Ah, and he's got two names."

"That's not ever a good sign."

"Usually means you're hiding from one of two things. People who want you dead or people who want you in prison." John waited through the next pause. "I hope you're not going to try and use any of this for a case."

"I know better than to ask a Spook for help on that front."

"I'm not a Spook, I'm a special agent."

"Who works for Big Brother." John waved a hand at another camera before flipping it the bird. "Now what about those two names?"

"The one he took a rap for here was 'Alex Green' and his driver's license puts him as a native of London."

"Not with that accent."

"Pretty strong?"

"About as strong as the bad cologne, the fake gold chain, and his too-large leather jacket."

"That's disgusting." Blake tapped a few more keys, "Which is why I think his second name is probably the one he had when he skulked into this country."

"And what's that?"

"Alexandr Zima."

"Do you know him?"

"Not as such." John strained to hear another barrage of tapping keys before a low whistle. "What do you know?"

"What?"

"Seems like our new friend Alex is in this country as a plant."

"He makes a terrible fern."

"I meant-"

"I know what you meant." John rubbed at his eyes. "I just wanted to yank your chain."

"It's enough that a potential member of the SVR decided to drop by your table at a pub. I don't need more yanking."

"You've got no one on him?"

"His infiltration was top notch. Comes into the country on a work visa. That expired and he stayed by infiltrating a little crime syndicate. Acted as one of their money men and got himself a sheet here." Blake gave a little huff of surprise. "If I didn't want to try and send him running back to the Motherland with his tail between his legs I'd compliment his style. This is a perfect cover."

"What can we do about it?"

"Nothing, as yet."

"As yet?"

"He's not stolen nuclear codes or hacked anything. And what he has done he served his time for so, as far as I'm worried about it, he's legally allowed to be here."

"And it's not odd to you that he's still here?"

"Have you ever been to Moscow in the winter?"

"Can't say I took that holiday."

Blake's voice held very little humor. "You freeze your fingers off in seconds and within a few moments after that your dick falls off. It's not pleasant and while the rain tends to cause a number of shrinkage excuses, I'd prefer that to the horrible, blustering cold that whips to your bones and never gives up."

"Almost sounds like my wife."

"Sorry I couldn't attend the funeral."

"You're the second person to say that to me."

"I wasn't in the country."

John laughed, "I wasn't trying to make you feel bad, Charles."

"Well you've made me feel about this Zima guy. I mean…" John imagined he could see Blake, like they had been in the Army when he couldn't solve a problem. He would push back from the desk or table, run a hand through his hair, and hold it back with enough tension to yank hair from the roots. "What's he want?"

"That's your area of expertise, not mine."

"Then I suggest you ask that little blonde of yours what he's after."

"She's not mine."

"Not yet." It was almost as if John would hear Blake wink at him. "Good luck with her. I'll bet she's worth the handful."

"I'll bet." John ended the call and then replaced his phone in his pocket. His fingers slid against the card there and he pulled it out, turning it over in his hand. After a moment he walked to the Tube station and worked his way across town.

Half an hour later he stopped outside the indicated building. It was by no means ostentatious but it also boasted nothing particularly significant either. The kind of building the city put up a few years ago to improve the image of housing but really only added a fresher coat of paint than the others and might actually host a working lift.

John pressed on the buzzer and raised the card over the camera when it blinked red. The door clicked and he opened it fully to give a satisfied appraisal of the lobby. Clean lines, a night watchman, and a working lift had John closing the doors with a bit more enthusiasm than he really owed a set of steel traps.

But the ride up had him manipulating the card in his grasp until it bent and creased under his constant attentions. He tucked it back in his jacket pocket when the doors opened and he walked right across to the indicated door. Raising his fist to knock John stopped, thinking over all the reasons this was perhaps his worst idea, but knocked anyway.

The door opened to a smiling Anna, who crossed her arms over her dressing gown. "Took you a bit longer than I originally thought."

"I ran into someone and then had to make a call." John pointed toward the interior, "May I?"

"Be my guest." She stepped back and John noted the brickwork of the interior, the kitchen of stainless steel appliances and the large island. Wood floors that did not creak under his steps and eased from the exposed kitchen to the open sitting room with a fireplace.

John tapped the top of one of the leather sofas, "This is lovely."

"I got it for a song really." Anna shrugged, shutting the door before following him. "The man who owned it died rather suddenly and they wanted someone who'd take it with all the furnishings."

"He wasn't a victim of yours was he?"

"No," Anna shook her head, perching on a sofa and then leaning back with her arm over the back of it. "I don't deal with hired guns and someone apparently hired the Reaper to shoot him from a far window."

"The Reaper?" John shook his head, "He's a myth."

"Then it might behoove you to know 'The Reaper' is actually a woman and she's not a myth." Anna motioned him to the sofa across from hers. "She was very real and retired very quickly after that shot. Best to go out on a high note, in my opinion."

"What made it a high note?"

"She put three in his chest before he even hit the ground. Most of her other work was long distance through the head but that one…" Anna shivered, "I appreciate fine art."

"Do you?"

"I appreciate you don't I?"

John ignored that question and pointed around them, "I'm surprised there's not some kind of gaudy display here to demonstrate that. Some paintings obviously stolen from someone or somewhere important."

"I'm not a Bond villain."

"But you carry around your own Chechen pet." John pulled up the photo and noted the way the muscles in Anna's neck tensed and her shoulders stiffened. "Tried to pass himself off as your pimp but he can't know you that well since I'm sure you don't go for the paid for sex racket."

"No, I can't say I've ever paid for sex." Anna paused, "Or been paid for it, for that matter."

"I hear it's a good business."

"If it were, you couldn't afford me."

John tucked his phone away, removing his jacket to drape it over the back of the sofa. "That confident in your skills?"

"Give me the evening and I'll show you."

He wished he could give over to the crackle between them but he pressed forward. "Who is he?"

"His name's Alex Green. He's got some interest in parts of my organization and keeps trying to set up a meet with his boss."

"And you're not interested?"

"I don't like the idea of dealing with Russians. Particularly since he's not the kind who lets you walk away from a debt with just your kneecaps shattered." Anna sighed back, "And here I was, hoping you'd come because you were curious."

"I am curious."

"I meant about me."

"I am."

Anna shook her head, "You just can't stop your mind from leading you down the straight and narrow can you?"

"My mother would appreciate if I stuck to the Sunday School lessons."

"You're Catholic and you went to Mass." Anna stood, "If all you have for me are questions, Mr. Bates, then we should schedule a time when you can hook me up to a tape recorder and a polygraph at the same time. Otherwise I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Just when we were getting started?" John kept his pose on the sofa and noted the narrowing of Anna's eyes telling him the gentle shift in power to him had not gone unnoticed. "I thought you'd be more fun."

"Give me your tie as a blindfold and your belt as a whip and I'll show you how fun I can be." Anna leaned over him, setting her hands on either side of his body to press into the leather of the cushions. "I might even let you all me 'Mistress', if you're good."

"The blindfold I might go for and even light whipping but I don't think I'll call you anything but your name." John held her gaze, "I'm not your sex slave."

"I thought the handshake in your office said differently."

"Arrangements change." John sat up straighter, pushing Anna back just enough to reestablish himself. "I'm not working for you, you're working for me."

"And how'd you figure that?"

"Because you want to eliminate your competition with our help. You want me to crack the case on my wife's boss. And you've got a Chechen who's extremely interested in your sex life in a way that's not entirely healthy." John shrugged, "I'd say you need me more than I need you."

"And how do you need me, Mr. Bates?" Anna trilled the vowels in his name to send a shiver over John's body. "If you need me at all, that is."

John surged up and took her lips with his. His hands came up to cup her face and in the next moment her legs took the place of her hands to straddle his lap and hold herself to him with her own hands. Their kiss was frantic, like the one at the back of the conference room, and John only broke it to rest his forehead on hers.

"I need you to help me find that passion again. Find that man you think's still in there somewhere."

"With pleasure." Anna ground down on him, the material of her dressing gown riding up slightly so John could catch a glimpse of another fabric. He risked a hand to lift the edge and groaned into another kiss when his fingers teased over a garter belt. She responded with an insistent grapple into his hair and scraped her nails over his scalp.

"You'll get a better hand on it if you're not so dressed." She whispered against his lips and John used the hand stroking her garter belt to get a grip under her ass and drag her closer to him.

"Then take them off me."

"With pleasure." Anna reached a hand between them to flip his belt open and manage his zipper. "But later. Right now I think I just need to scratch the itch. We'll play more once I'm satisfied."

"What about my satisfaction?" John took hold of her neck, leaving a running trail of slightly sloppy kisses there in response to Anna's rather insistent fingers stroking him free of his boxers while shoving them and his trousers far enough down his legs.

"I'm sure it'll be mutual." Anna resettled herself, opening her dressing gown to reveal a matching lingerie set. "And we get to keep having fun later."

"Later," John could not agree fast enough as the hand at her ass tried to drag her into place.

Anna's hands came between them, pulling the material of her thong to the side, and sinking down on him. The dig of her nails into the flesh of his neck would leave marks but they were not nearly as bad as the hickey she sucked at his pulse point when he rocked into her. It did not take long for them to get a swift rhythm going, both doing all they could to suck the air from the other while driving themselves to the point of sanity.

John came first and did not have a moment to worry about it when he gasped at the cling of Anna's inner walls in response. She gasped into his neck, holding herself to him, and rocked her hips for the last of it before settling back. They sat there, on the hand-me-down leather sofas from the flat's previous owner, and caught their breath.

She found words first and pushed back enough to slip off him. John reached out when she tottered a moment but Anna righted herself and grinned at him. "I think you'll do excellently well at a round two, if you're up for it. I know I want to do that again."

"Only as long as we get time." John pointed to himself. "This was like a shag in a public toilet."

"Far more comfortable." Anna stopped, "Shagged many people in public toilets have you?"

"There was one time at a club."

She licked her lips, "If only we could do that again."

"I'm not twenty anymore."

"Neither am I." Anna crooked a finger at him, walking her way down the hall. "When you're ready… Mr. Bates."


	8. Which Is More Fun?

John righted himself as best he could, leaving socks and shoes in the sitting room before gripping at his trousers to keep them from slipping down his legs as he followed Anna to the bedroom. He almost tripped on the step down but managed to right himself before he sprawled all over the wood floor. Anna still giggled from where she hung her dressing gown on the en suite door.

"A little eager are we?"

"You're the one who wanted a round two." John found the edge of the bed and sat on it to avoid another almost-tumble as he removed his trousers. When he went for his boxers, shirt still buttoned, she stopped him.

"Don't take away all the fun just yet." She sauntered over to him, pulling at the tie still loosely slung about his neck. "How else do I tease you?"

"You're still wearing your clothes so I figure that'd be enough." John pulled back on the tie to loosen it and slipped his head underneath. "I don't know, games aren't really my style."

"We could try to teach an old dog new tricks."

"This dog doesn't bite like that." John stood up, using the tie to loop around Anna's wrists and tightened it. "But I liked your suggestion of bindings earlier."

"Is this the moment I find out you're using entrapment and I'm about to be the victim of a sting operation that'll come through my lovely windows and arrest me in my knickers?" Anna tsked her tongue against her teeth, tugging John closer to her with the tie between them. "That's not how this game works."

"We just changed the rules in the sitting room."

"And you're finding your passion, which I believe was the end of the bargain I was taking on." Anna put her bound hands on either side of his neck, holding her lips just away from her. "I guess the question is, where do you want me, Mr. Bates? Should I assume the position?"

"Not sure which position that would be." John eyed the bed and pulled them both back onto it, leaving Anna to straddle his legs as he pushed back toward the headboard. "The more pressing question, at this point, is whether or not you replaced the mattress when you bought this place."

"Why?" Anna lifted her arms, resting them on his shoulders.

"Because if a man owned a flat like this then he definitely had company of the female variety."

"So we weren't the first to use those sofas for a purpose other than the one on the manufacturer's warranty." Anna trilled, "How scandalous for us."

"Answer the question about the mattress."

"Of course I replaced it. I bought a new bed too. Something… large enough." Anna ground down when she said it and John hissed. "I find you're proportionally satisfactory."

"Just satisfactory?"

"A quick shag on the sofa does not a complete assessment make, Mr. Bates." Anna pulled her hands apart and flung the tie off in another direction, setting her fingers to pulling the buttons from the holes on his shirt. "One needs a bit more of an arena for that?"

"What kind of arena?"

"A bed will do, a decently covered balcony if you're not an exhibitionist, a pool when you're feeling daring, and I happen to like the sensation a Jacuzzi gives you but I could settle for a hot tub."

"Never a shower stall then?" John raised his hands at Anna's urging to have her unbutton his cuffs.

"Not my preferred location but I took a look at the offerings in this place before I settled and the shower's got potential for it." Anna stripped the shirt away, "You're not someone who gets overly heated when he's not in control of the situation, are you?"

"Not sure what you mean."

"You're not going to try and flip us if I take top will you?"

John widened his eyes and shook his head. "I can't say I have a preference. Last few years have been a bit perfunctory in this regard."

"She wasn't up for it?" Anna ground down again and John almost cracked his head on the headboard.

"She didn't want it with me."

"You haven't been a monk have you?"

"I believe in monogamy."

"Too bad she didn't." Anna shrugged, lifting up to walk backward on her knees. "Her loss if my gain I'm guessing."

"I'm glad you didn't say her loss was _my_ gain."

Anna paused, her fingers tracing the line of his boxers. "I'm a great many things, Mr. Bates, but cruel and unkind toward the dead isn't one of them. Even if I didn't like them."

"Did you even meet her?"

"Can't say I had the misfortune to meet her personally, no." Anna smoothed her hands over his boxers and tugged at the bottom to loosen them. "But I believe in the karma that comes from saying things about the dead you shouldn't. Therefore I don't."

"How kind of you." John jumped as Anna finished grabbing the boxers off and dropped them over the end of the bed with a deliciously devious smirk on her face.

"I plan to be more kind in a moment."

Her slow crawl up to him set all the hairs over John's body standing upright while the focus of her attention also stirred itself to a more upright position. John swallowed and then dug his fingers into the sheets of her bed under him as Anna wrapped a hand around him. The reflection of light off her eyes made them flash before she tugged gently.

John followed her lead and she swung him off the side of the bed. His legs his the floor and Anna took position between them. Her hands left him just long enough to tie back her hair and John found himself so taken with the simplicity of the action he missed her next move entirely.

With one had juggling and massaging the weight between his legs and the other hand working the base of him, Anna's mouth took its position at the head. Her tongue liked and laved over him with all the care and attention one gives a giant ice cream cone they hope to devour before it can melt in their hands. And she proved her adeptness at reading the signs she needed for each groan and grunt she drew from John only heightened the levels of pleasure she could give him.

The sneak of her tongue into the tip before sucking deeply as far as she could go had John's hips working off the bed. He gripped into the sheets more to hold himself on the mattress more than to stop himself crying out because the one thing worse than giving her all the vocal cues she needed to know she was winning was to landing with an dignified smack to his ass on the floor. So he dug in to the smooth wooden floor with his toes and his heels and tried desperately to look anywhere but at the lingerie-d woman giving him the best blowjob of his life.

He screwed his eyes shut and tried to block the image of her mouth around him with a list of the Kings of England to try and hole back but he could only grind his teeth at the first tremors entering his body. But then Anna pulled back. John's eyes flew open with her gentle kiss to his tip before pressing his shoulders to lay him back on the bed.

She dropped her knickers in front of him and John knew the image of her, in the black bra and nothing else, would be burned onto his retinas forever. He could not move, afraid the slightest disruption to his current position would inevitably set him off (an even more undignified idea than landing on his ass on the floor), and lay frozen as Anna placed her knees on either side of him. Even in the low light he could make out the barest hint of a glisten before she leaned over him.

With her hands on either side of his head, Anna lowered her lips to his. "I do hope you don't take my next proposal like a prude."

"What?" How could this woman ask him any questions when it was all he could think about not to let go and relive his worst teenage memory?

"This." Anna pulled his arms above his head and positioned herself right over his face. "If you're thirsty, Mr. Bates."

At this point primal instinct took over where his brain short-circuited and pulled her to him. His hands gripped her thighs and hips as hard as he could, digging indentations into her skin with his fingers as he sought the best hold. Well, the best hold not currently taken by his mouth on her.

It was the perfect cure. Even for as aroused as this made him, it set Anna off. With his teeth tugging and nipping at her nerves before sucking deeply there, John followed her moans. Not as well as she followed his, but he was making up for his undesired time as a celibate man. He intended to jump the learning curve as swiftly as possible and she seemed as invested in such a venture as he was.

This, he managed the quick thought in the half seconds before sending his fingers into her or tonguing roughly through her folds, was what sex should be. Fun, wild, mutually beneficial, and satisfying. And when her vaginal walls tightened around him, clinging so hard John wondered if there would be blood left in his fingers, and she screamed as his mouth searched every crevice of her clit, John knew he was leaping forward in a big way.

Anna draped over him, barely catching herself on her hands beside his head. The muscles of her abdomen tightened while she tried to haul in deep breaths and John risked taking his mouth to the skin around her breasts. He could not ignore it, right in front of his face as they were, and only barely held back the self-satisfied grin when Anna risked her delicate balance to hold his head to her.

She sat back faster than John liked but her hands whipped behind her to fumble the clasp on her bra. And there it was. The equality of the sexes in their naked glory… and John felt horribly unequal. For the slightest moment he wanted to run for his life before he failed to impress this veritable goddess with the comparison of what they had to offer.

But Anna, either in an intense state of obliviousness brought on by her recent orgasm or because she was the world's most forgiving diplomat, only rocked back down his body to drag herself over his still-hard erection. John's fingers found their familiar place in the sheets and Anna arched her back to keep her clit right next to him as she bent backward to her bedside table. The light caught the edge of the familiar foil packet before she ripped through it with her teeth.

John tried to sit up but Anna's consistent rub against him drove all thought of movement from his brain and he was only left with basic response. Raise hips and thrust upward. And her tickle down his shaft as she rolled the condom securely onto him did no favors at all. Or it did, depending on what her game was.

When she rocked onto her knees, ready to sink down, John gripped her hip and blinked to clear his head. "Earlier."

Anna frowned, "What?"

"We didn't… earlier…"

"Are you clean?" John nodded. "Then there's nothing to worry about. This is an extra level of protection."

That was as far as John's mind could handle and once Anna slicked her way down to rest her hips directly on him so he practically quivered as deeply inside her as he could be, that was all he thought about.

There was no form, no finesse, and certainly no style after that. It was all John could do not to grab her hips and her ass and drive into her like an animal. Or like a teenage boy. Even through all the haze of the nerves in his body firing like sparking electrical wires he understood that much.

Anna, however, did not seem to mind. Her nails raked furrows down his chest and dug into his hips and thighs in her rocking, bouncing, gyrating motions, completely heedless of whatever thoughts John seemed to stress over in the clear parts of his mind. She just gave herself over to it.

And John did too. His hips used the leverage of his feet still on the floor and drove into her, driving the air from Anna's body. He settled one hand at her ass, holding her close to try and plunge deeper with each thrust, while his other hand flailed to tease at her body. In future he might look back on this moment and blush in shame at his completely frenetic motions and how they might paint him as a man in frenzy, but then he just wanted to send her over the edge again.

A twist and a nip at her breasts had that same shrieking sound echoing in John's ears again. His own body heeded the call and thrust for the final time. It sent white before John's eyes and he could imagine all the extremities on his body losing their strength for him to collapse back on the bed.

The weight that settled on his chest barely registered. John closed his eyes, focusing only on steadying his breathing so his poor, exhausting heart did not stop… or burst from his chest. And it was not until Anna eased off him that John even attempted to sit up and take care of the condom.

There was a moment of awkwardness when John came back to the room and noticed Anna, back to the headboard, just sitting there. He cleared he throat and she looked over at him, smiling. "I'd say, 'very well done' Mr. Bates. Quite the best I've ever had."

"I pity the fools who tried before."

"You should but not for those reasons." Anna patted the bed next to her and then barely suppressed a laugh as John grabbed for his boxers. "Do you need those?"

"Given that you're the first person I've had sex with in…" John winced, "A long time, I think I'm a little nervous."

"With what you can do," Anna shook her head, "You've got nothing to be shy about. If you want that opinion."

"I'll take the incredible compliment there." John snapped the elastic on his boxers, "And still wear these."

"Suit yourself." Anna closed her eyes, resting her head on the headboard. "But I'm feeling quite alright now."

"Then I'll take the compliment there too." John settled on the bed, "And I hope I can raise your compliment with one."

"And what would that be?" Anna raised an eyebrow, turning to him.

"I don't think I've ever tasted anything better."

Anna laughed, "You are something else Mr. Bates."

"So are you." John adjusted on the bed, "Like someone dragging around some relationship with the a Chechen."

"Not one for cultural appreciation?" John waited and Anna sighed, "He's no one you need worry about."

"Given that he tried to convince me you work for him I doubt that." John narrowed his eyes at her. "Why would he say that?"

"You won't be expected to leave any money on the bedside table when you're done." Anna's tone hardened. "Don't worry about that."

"I wasn't…" John sighed, "If we're going to be working together, which I may have well and truly buggered by sleeping with you, then we need to trust one another."

"Every word I've said to you since I met you, Mr. Bates, has been the truth."

"It's not a question of honesty."

"It is, Mr. Bates." Anna pushed herself off the bed and grabbed for her dressing gown. "It is because what you doubt is what I'm telling you."

"Because I get the feeling you don't trust me."

"And what would've given you that impression?" Anna crossed her arms over her chest, closing the dressing gown with the motion.

"You treating me like one of your lackeys instead of a partner." John got to his feet as well, the bed between them. "Whatever relationship you've got with that man is more than just someone trying to make sure they get a cut of something. He's a criminal."

"The unfortunate reality of minorities in the Greater London Area."

"Not like this." John shook his head, "What is he to you and your organization?"

"He's the reason it exists." Anna sighed, "And that's all I want to say."

"You're not being interrogated."

"Then what do you call this?" Anna opened her arms and the dressing gown opened to show a strip of skin from her neck to her knees. "It's not the normal post-coital ritual that I recognize."

"I call this a chance to trust me." John practically slapped a hand to his own chest. "I'm risking everything here and I want to know it's with someone who has as much to lose as me."

"You've not got as much to lose as me." Anna scoffed. "You don't even have a clue what I've got to lose."

"I would if you'd tell me."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Wouldn't I?" John stuttered a bit starting his next sentence, "You've got your pub, your employees, your connection to whatever you call the underworld or the criminal fraternity or whatever… what else have you got to lose that I don't? This is my career, my life on the line. We cock this up and it's over for me. I'm finished."

"At least you won't be dead."

John froze, "What do you mean dead?"

"I mean I won't be breathing by the end of this if we balls this up." Anna took a deep breath, her hands on her hips pulling the silk of her dressing gown back further. "If I tell you the truth, about all of it, your neck is literally on the line because if we screw this up then either it's slit or garroted."

"What are you involved in?"

"Something a lot bigger than a pub fronting for illegal activities, that's what." Anna shook her head, "This isn't the state or the place to talk about this."

"Why? Someone bugging your flat?"

"Possibly though I've got the counter bugs working." John frowned and Anna rolled her eyes, "They record innocuous noise to play over on a loop that resets everyday to block possible listening devices."

"So… earlier?"

"They recorded that." Anna managed a little smile, "I do hope whomever is on the other end of the line enjoys it."

John looked around the room before taking a step toward Anna. "I think there's something they'd enjoy even more."

"And what's that?" She gasped slightly when John backed her into the wall.

"A repeat performance." He grazed the side of her face with his lips, barely touching her skin. "If you're up for one."

"I'll assume the price is my honesty?" Anna's chest pressed against John's as her breathing increased, the silk rubbing against his skin.

"If you like."

"It's more like if you like." Anna shut her eyes, John's hands working under the material of her robe to sculpt over her body. "It's your life."

"Since you've awoken the passionate man hidden under the years of heartache, it's the least I can do." John tugged her earlobe between his teeth and whispered there. "Tell me the truth Anna."

Anna pushed him back from her, dropping her dressing gown and turning in his grip to bring his arms around her body. With his chest to her back he pressed her into the wall, kissing over her neck and massaging her breasts in his hands. The position, unlike his almost catatonic state from earlier, allowed him to better explore her.

She undulated against him, her hands braced on the wall and occasionally clawing at the paint there when John hit a sensitive spot. He laid a line of kisses down her back and dropped to his knees behind her. A slight nudge put her legs apart so he could run his fingers and tongue over where she already wept for him.

With his fingers finding the familiar holds, sure to induce bruises by the morning, John sucked and almost slurped his way to her fourth orgasm of the evening. And when she shrieked out while his tongue almost strangled inside her, John could not stand and shed his boxers fast enough.

Anna did not move, keeping her position but now jutting her ass toward him. John angled just right and did not even need to encourage himself before thrusting forward. There was no preamble to the motions and almost no additional foreplay needed to send John racing to finish. His fingers could not find a spot they desired more between a hold on her heaving breasts or manipulating her swollen nerves.

Each thrust into her met with the complementary shove to make sure he worked as deeply inside her as she could help him go. And when John happened to catch sight of how they appeared, with her ass resting in the crux of his hips or the sight of her just clinging to edge of him, he drove harder. He rutted against her, knocking into the wall with an elbow as he slipped but still managing to keep the pace up.

The pace that only ended as Anna sobbed out her finish and John gasped out her name. They slumped against the wall before John eased back. His earlier fear of landing hard on the floor was only assuaged slightly when he found the edge of the bed. Reaching forward with weak arms, John helped Anna join him and they both lay back, perpendicular on the bedspread.

"Anna?" John turned to her when he could breathe without sounding like he had barely survived an attack on his life. "Who is that man?"

"He's my handler."

"What?" Only surprise could give John the strength he needed to haul himself onto one arm and look at Anna.

"He's my handler." Anna met John's eyes, "Alex Green is a Russian agent named Alexandr Zima and he's my handler because I'm a Russian agent for the SVR."

John could not breathe as Anna laughed a bit, "Surprise Mr. Bates."


	9. From Russia With Less Than Love

John sat up, blinking. "You're Russian."

"No, I'm from Yorkshire." Anna sat up as well, "And I'm not a Russian agent by choice, if that makes it any better."

"It doesn't." John ran a hand through his hair, "And I thought I was screwed when I started sleeping with you."

"I feel sufficiently screwed." Anna shrugged, shifting on the bed to put her back against the headboard as John adjusted his position and tried not to slip over the side of the bed. "But I guess that's a matter of opinion and I don't think we're sharing the same opinion at the moment."

"Don't you?"

"You tell me."

John raked another hand through his hair, at a loss for what else to do. "I thought this was just about you running illegal dealings with the mafia or something."

"The Russians have mafia representatives in this city. As do the Chinese and the Italians and even a few Japanese but I'm a bit more fussed about the South Africans lately. Or the Albanians, if I'm honest. They've been making a move through France now that they made a deal with the Algerians and-"

"Stop," John held up a hand, the other going to his face to try and find the rest of his sense. "Please go back to the part where you're a Russian agent for the SVR with a Chechen handler."

"I thought we'd swing back around to that." Anna got off the bed, "This way."

John followed her into the en suite and watched as Anna turned on the shower. The stream poured down and Anna checked it a moment before nodding her head toward it. He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling confident for just a moment before remembering he tried to take a power stance naked.

Anna rolled her eyes, grabbed his hand, and dragged him into the shower. With the water pounding around him, John looked toward the spray and accidently blinded himself. He spit and coughed, trying to clear his eyes, and turned back to Anna. She eased against the wall and slipped to a small portion where she could sit.

"It makes sure the bugs can't hear us. The loop of sounds now should breathing and I don't want to risk my bugs picking up anything it might play on a loop later."

"What about what we already said?" John jerked a thumb toward the other room, water dripping to flatten his hair against his forehead. "Won't that get picked up?"

Anna shook her head, "I know the way my bugs tape. I've counted the cycles to make sure it throws the other bugs off."

"Because if they know you're countering the bugs…"

She nodded, "You're getting it now Mr. Bates."

"I don't want to be." John worked himself away from the spray, sitting on the floor by the wall with the spout so the stream missed him. "This isn't what I signed on for when I took this case."

"Join the disappointed club, Mr. Bates." Anna snapped and John jumped slightly at the vitriol in her tone. "You think _I_ wanted this?"

"I don't know because I've come to realize I don't know anything about you at all."

"It's better that way." Anna rested her head against the tiled wall. "The less you know the less they'll try to torture out of you if you ever get caught."

"Caught?"

"This is a delicate game, Mr. Bates. One where the price of losing is your life and it's never quick. The process draws out longer and longer until you're sobbing and telling them every detail about your life as they tear the fingernails away from your skin." Her voice, for a moment, sounded almost wistful in the moment of nostalgia she managed, "I used to want to be a ballerina."

John looked at his hands, pulling his knees up so he could rest his arms there, and finally faced her. "How'd you get trapped in all of this?"

"When I was younger I trained in ballet and gymnastics. As I grew older I continued to study both but realized I could never be any good as a ballerina because I wasn't tall enough. I never wanted to be prima or anything but I didn't want to spend my entire career playing children or the rats in _The Nutcracker_."

"Forgive the little I know about ballet and the intricacies of it."

"On the other hand, gymnasts are rarely tall and I excelled in that arena. So much so that my instructors at Uni decided I should receive the scholarship that would allow me to study for a year in Moscow under some of the best ballet instructors and gymnasts the world has ever known." Anna gave a barking snort, "I wish I never agreed to it."

"Did you speak Russian?"

"Enough to get by and when they're screaming at you in Russian you learn quickly." Anna waved a hand, "They didn't have to scream much at me, because I was good, but they have a very militant form and I found myself struggling to keep up at first. So much so that a boy in the program offered to help me in some of our time off."

"Green?"

Anna nodded. "I thought Alexandr was attractive and he seemed to like me so I took him up on his offer. And he did help me. So much so that he started spending more time with me. He was training in the gymnastics program as well and soon, since the instructors at the ballet school knew they'd be no hope for someone as short as me, we were together full time." She paused, "Excluding the gender specified event training."

"Then what?"

"I had been there about six months and we had a week break. I considered going home for a visit but the cost was prohibitive and no one else was. They took the time to get in extra training and since I didn't want to let anyone in my program down I stayed as well." Her eyes closed, the thunder of the water in the shower stall continuing. "I wish I hadn't stayed."

"What happened?"

Anna opened her eyes, staring straight ahead with the same dead look in her eye John had seen on the faces of victims forced to recount a story they wished they could forget but would be forever required to remember. "Alexei invited me to a party with some friends of his. Said they were going to a night club and I should come and enjoy myself."

John frowned, "I would've thought drinking was prohibited for those in such an advanced program."

"I didn't drink anything." Anna gripped the sides of the seat under her. "Even when he continued to offer them to me I refused. He got angry and finally asked if I wanted to come and see something."

"See what, exactly?"

"I didn't ask. I tried to get away but someone grabbed my arm and forced me to go with them." Her breath rattled a little as it filled her chest. "They took me to a hotel and up to a room. Alexei kept saying that there was an after party or something inside but I had this sick feeling there wasn't. I didn't need the door open to know he was lying."

Anna managed another shuddering breath. "His friend held me in place as Alexei got this piece of wire between two metal rings. He played with it a moment and then pushed us into the en suite as the door opened. We waited there until some man walked in. Alexei surprised him, wrapped that garrote around his neck, and broke the sink before the man's windpipe had crushed enough for him to suffocate on the floor."

John blinked at her, "You watched him murder someone?"

She nodded, "I was so frightened I almost wet myself. I didn't know what to do and I didn't know how to get out of the situation on my own." Even over the water he could hear the tremor in her voice. "He dangled the garrote in front of me while his friend drew a knife and held it to my throat."

"How'd you get away?"

"I didn't." Anna shook her head, "I had only three choices at that point. I could die there, with that man, stabbed to death to make it look like we'd killed one another in some kind of lover's quarrel, I could be the poor British student studying abroad who died in a mugging gone wrong after too much to drink and be the cautionary tale for students everywhere. Or I could go with them."

"Go where?"

"To this underground bunker or something and start training." Anna shrugged, "So I did. I trained all day as a gymnast and spent the next six months learning Russian, learning how to be their agent, learning to make drop points, learning code making, a bit of code cracking, and how to create legends."

"This sounds like a bad spy movie."

"It's my spy movie." There was a slight edge of humor to her voice. "They trained me and then sent me back here to work for them."

"Doing what?" John pointed at her, "You're not still a gymnast or anything. You own a pub."

"That's the point." Anna's smile looked forced, even through the water of the tap now splattering him with cold. "I wasn't supposed to be anything but a pub owner. I provide a place for meetings, drop points, collections under the guise of customs-inspected shipments…"

"Which I buggered for you."

"On the contrary." Anna snorted, "You helped me take down the Turkish and that's been their main objective for the last four years. They wanted to own the Turkish area and now that it's free for the taking they're growling and biting at anyone who might get in their way."

"What else do you do?"

"I'm the local resource. I get them safe houses, hotels, prostitutes, English-language books, temp jobs, allow drugs to move with my merchandise, turn a blind eye to the cameras near the restrooms if they decide to take business in there." Her fingers had finally loosened their hold slightly on her seat. "I get their agents anything they need while in London and get messages to them if there's an emergency. I'm apprised of the ground movements and I remain their static outpost."

"I thought you said you're not into the drug and prostitute trade? That it was what made you special."

"I don't deal in them myself. I get them when they need them but only then." The hard edge to her next statement raised the hairs on John's arms. "It's what you do so you don't die."

Shivering now, in the cold of the shower water, John opened his hands at her. "Then why not go to MI5 or MI6 with this? It's their job to handle these problems and they're better equipped to handle it."

"Because that's the kind of thing they'd expect from me." The shift in John's position sent a streak of pain up his ass and he realized it numbed and fell asleep through a combination of his position on the tile and the cold water. "They watched me closely for the first year, thinking I'd run or bungle it on purpose but they underestimated my desire to live."

"And selling out your country… that didn't mean anything to you?"

"Forgive me, Mr. Bates, for not being the patriot willing to die for a country that doesn't give a damn about me beyond the taxes I pay."

John sighed, shaking his head, "Then what? You tell them you're turning me to their side to help their business?"

"It wasn't outside the realms of possibility that our movements would be tracked. Filtering them through my pub meant that it would look like a local affair and they've got no respect for the local constabulary."

"Obviously."

"Please don't be offended, it doesn't suit you."

"Then tell me why you thought I'd be alright with the turn in this conversation."

"I didn't think that." Anna shook her head, whether as a way to clear it or as the last part of the whole-body shiver she accomplished he could not tell. "Look, despite whatever pride you hold for your position, it's small potatoes to them. A DI sniffing around us in London is like a dog at a fire hydrant, it's to be expected. And since I could swing a cat in this city and hit a policeman just as surely as I could hit an agnostic, dealing with you isn't going to raise any suspicions on either side and that's what I want."

John's brow furrowed, "And what is it that you want?"

"I want you to help me because you're my best chance."

"Of getting out?"

"Of getting out of this shitstorm alive." Anna released a breath like she had been holding it for a long time. "I need your help."

"If I help you then I betray my partner, my boss, everyone I've ever worked with, and I could lose my livelihood."

"And if you don't help me I could lose my life." Anna's eyes bored into him, as if she could see straight to his soul. "Isn't that your job? To protect the innocent?"

John barked a laugh, "We both know you're not innocent and neither am I. Just having this conversation loses me everything and puts you in prison."

"Not if you can get me to a place where I can get out of this and give them everything I know." John brightened and Anna nodded, "I was just a careful and thorough with my research on my Russian friends as I was with the Turks. Get me out of this, out of Russian hands, and I promise that part of whatever deal I get to make includes you suffering no ill-effects."

"If we make it that far."

"I figured it could be incentive for you to work cooperatively with me." Anna reached her hand forward, enduring the icy spray. "Is it a deal? Will you help me?"

John stared at it a moment before taking her hand. "Of course I will."

Anna reached over his head and shut off the water. "I think we're both thoroughly frozen."

With difficulty, John managed to get onto his feet. He stumbled out of the shower and took one of the fluffy towels Anna offered him. After wiping down his body in the dual job of trying to dry off and warm himself at the same time, John hung it up and returned to her room to retrieve his things.

"Are you leaving?" He turned to see Anna, wrapped in her fluffy towel, standing at the door to the en suite.

"I thought I should." John held up his trousers and pants in one hand and his shirt in the other. The tie was still somewhere in the shadowed room. "I wouldn't want to give your handler the wrong impression."

"I'm sure he's got the measure he needs of you right now." Anna sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers twiddling together. "I can't imagine what you must think of me now, Mr. Bates."

"That you're a better actress than I took you for when I first met you." John's arms dropped, the clothes dangling in his grip. "I was astounded by you. By your cool, your calm, your collected arrogance at who you were and what you were doing. You made Talbot and I look like chumps."

"I didn't want to."

"But you did." John sighed, slumping to lean against the wall. "Was it all a façade? Some legend you created to help you hide the fear in your eyes whenever I mention the man keeping tabs on you?"

"We've all got our secrets, Mr. Bates."

"But yours have now become mine." He let out a breath, "I…I can't tell you what I think of you because I have no idea who you are."

Anna frowned but before she could attempt a response John spoke. "Are you the frightened girl who witnessed a murder and had to decide for her life in that moment? Are you the confident pub owner who makes salacious suggestions across the table at me? Are you the poor bystander forced, with a literal gun to your head, to work for people actively trying to usurp the government I'm sworn to uphold and protect?" He opened his arms to her, the force with which he did so dropping the clothes to the ground. "Which is it? Because I don't know and I'd like to have a clue which 'you' it is I'm talking to right now."

"I get the uncomfortable feeling that telling you I'm all of them would seem like a cop out to you."

"You're not wrong there." John rested his head against the wall, banging it for a moment before meeting her eyes. "What do I do? How do I know you're not just going to burn me to raise in the ranks or something? How do I know I'm not just a toy to you?"

"You trust me." Anna held his gaze, not flinching away. "You wanted the truth and I told you all of it. The deal I made with you, about giving you information to help you take down those other groups, that wasn't bullshit. That's what I'm offering and I promise you I'll hold up my end of the bargain."

"And what about us?" John pointed between them. "We've cocked it all up."

"Depends on how you consider it all cocked I guess." Anna sucked the inside of her cheek. "I could've picked any of the policemen who milled outside my pub, snapped what they thought were secret pictures of me, or even had the gall to walk into my bar like they owned it and try to talk to me."

"But you chose me, is that what you're saying?"

Anna nodded. "I had a friend of mine, in your department, drop a few hints to get you on my case so I could come clean to you." The corners of her mouth quirked toward a smile. "Didn't hurt that you're one of the most attractive policemen I've ever seen but that's neither here nor there."

"I thought you said you didn't have anyone working there. That you lied to throw me off."

"Do you always give away all of your secrets."

John pointed a finger at her, "You told me that everything you'd said to me was the truth."

"This is to protect them, not me. I can't tell you who my person on the inside is or they'd find her and-" Anna stopped, closing her eyes, "Shit."

"It's Mary, isn't it?"

Anna nodded, her eyes opening. "She's my oldest friend and when I got back from Russia I told her everything."

"Why didn't she get her father to help? He could've done something."

"She wanted to then but I…" Anna's eyes filled with tears, "I was terrified then. I knew they were watching me and I didn't want the only people I'd ever considered family to suffer for it. So I broke with the family, had a nasty row with Robert to seal the deal, and only kept in contact with Mary."

"Because you needed her?"

"Because I needed someone who knew what it was like for me, trapped as I was… as I am, under the thumb of something I couldn't escape." Anna put a hand to her face, crying into it.

John lasted a moment and then came to her side. He drew her close and Anna cried on his shoulder. His hand moved up and down her back, trying to soothe her, but she only cried harder. For the briefest of seconds, John thought he should just leave and walk away while he still had all of his limbs, his job, and enough of his sanity intact.

But he did not.

Instead he found himself kissing her. Then helping her hands as they fumbled to remove her robe. And then it started again.

His kisses moved over her body. The passionate man she ignited within him responding to the most basic of primal instincts to protect, to guard, and to procreate… though the evolved mind told him that was not strictly necessary in this case. Regardless, his hands could not be gentle enough. His kisses could not cover enough skin, and when he set his shoulders between her legs to put his mouth to her for the third time that evening, he could not get enough.

Anna clung to her sheets, bucked her hips, and shrieked. When he alternated between flat strokes and pointed thrusts of his tongue, she moaned. When he used his finger and then widened her enough for more digits to scrape and drag along her vaginal walls, Anna howled. And when John sucked and licked for every crevice of her clit, Anna came.

The rush almost had him moving as quickly as they had already this evening. For a moment he remembered they were on round four. Anna… round six, technically speaking. He could not remember having the stamina for something like this since he was a teenager. Then again, John's mind flitted as his hands and kisses took him back up toward her lips with a generous detour to cover and coat her breasts with kisses, he could not remember anyone he wanted to go this many rounds with.

Their lips met again and Anna furrowed through his hair, finding hand holds by digging her nails into his scalp. The kiss only broke when Anna pushed him back slightly, holding her body back when he teased toward her entrance with his erection, and stared him in the eyes. "This is me."

John frowned and Anna looped her legs over his hips to gain a slot at his waist that lifted her enough so all he would have to do was slide in. One of her hands loosened its hold at his head and she made sure he could not look away. "This version of me is the real one. The one who wants this to be something more than a fantastic shag. The one who wants to be free so I can find a life of my own. This is the me I want you to know is real."

He thrust forward then. The pace stayed slow, his fingers and lips setting an unhurried pace that drove them both forward comfortably instead of with the frenetic excitement of their previous encounters. A speed that kept them close, their forehead occasionally pressing together, and their breathing synchronized.

Eventually Anna could not take it and she lifted her hips. Her hand forced John's down to join her, sending her over the edge with practiced and determined motions. He followed shortly after, laying half on Anna as he tried to calm his quivering body.

"What are we going to do, Anna?" He mumbled into her shoulder, kissing there and then raising his head for an answer.

"We start by taking down Carlisle. He's the key to some major operations and if I can get copies of his books then we'll be in business for the next stage."

"The next stage?"

"The one where I can hope we get out of this alive." Anna brushed some of John's hair from his forehead. "Because I do want you alive. With whatever else we've got between us and whatever other oddities exist… I want you alive. That's the truest thing I'll ever tell you."

"It may surprise you," John took her hand and kissed the back of it. "I want you alive as well. I like you much better that way."

"So you like me?"

"I'm starting to." John lay his head back on the pillow. "Do you like me?"

"Are we back in primary school where I need to write it on a note and check the right box?"

"It wouldn't hurt."

She pushed him slightly off her. "I do like you. It's why I chose you to help me. I didn't ever want anyone else."

"Then we'll do this together."


	10. Say Hello to My Chechen Friend

John left Anna's building early, his tie hanging around his shoulders, and almost ran into the man standing outside it. He recognized Green and it took everything John had not to strangle the man where he stood. With a curt nod, John headed in the other direction.

"I think you're forgetting something."

John made a show of checking his pockets and shook his head. "I'm all good mate. Thanks anyway."

"I mean you're forgetting to pay me." He held out his hand, jerking his head toward the upper floors of the building. "You had all night with her and that's expensive."

"Then it's a good thing she's not a prostitute." John turned but stopped when he felt something at his back.

Green's voice hissed in his ear, "I think you misunderstand me."

"No, I don't."

John spun faster than Green could anticipate and smacked the flat of his hand at Green's ear. The other man stumbled, dropping his switchblade, and John kicked it into the street. He grabbed Green by his collar and knocked him into the side of the building, holding him there as he tried to keep his rage to the growl in his voice.

"If you ever threaten me again, I'll break your face and then bust your head in. Do you understand or should I get a Russian translator." Green nodded furiously and John dropped him into a heap on the ground. "Don't ever let me see you again."

He shoved his arms into his jacket and tied his tie as he hurried into the Tube station. A vibration from his pocket had John digging for his phone but the bars blinked furiously for a second and then died in time for him to notice Robert's name on the screen. John groaned and worked his oyster card into the machine to hurry for the next train.

He stumbled into the office and held up his hands when Robert beckoned him from his office. "Look, sir, I was-"

"I like how you're wearing your clothes from yesterday." Robert chuckled and then passed over a folder. "I think you need to read this."

John took the folder and opened it. He frowned at the contents and then up at Robert. "This is from my desk."

"Yes it is." Robert sat down, "I was just curious why you didn't tell me about getting a whole shipment of documents we could use to take down some truly horrible people."

"It was right before a very big party, sir." John closed the file, tapping it on his open hand. "I was going to tell you this morning but-"

"But you were too busy trying to get dressed at someone else's house that you didn't have time."

"I…" John stopped himself, "I hope you're not about to judge me for finally getting some when you've been telling me to do that for months."

"I'm just hoping you didn't spend a fortune trying to find a girl who might be willing to take you."

"It didn't cost me a thing."

"I think you're lying."

John ground his teeth. "Okay, it cost me something but not what you think."

"Whatever it cost you, I want you to tell me what you know about the people in these folders?" Robert pointed at the folder in John's hand. "Why do they matter and what do we get from taking them down?"

"I thought you were all about the honor of simply being good guys." John continued tapping the folder against his hand. "But from what Ms. Smith told me when she so graciously dumped these files in my lap, these are bad people and they need our special attention."

"I do hope, John, you're not about to tell me you've received some of Ms. Smith's special attention." Robert chewed the inside of his cheek and John focused everything he had on not moving. "Because other than the gross impropriety of sleeping with an informant, there's still the question of whether or not she's even on our side."

"If she's on any side, sir, it's her own."

"That's not a mentality we can trust, John."

"We don't have to trust it. We just have to use it." John waved the folder in the air. "If it gets us this then does it matter?"

"It matters if we get to the bench and we've got nothing but speculation and one witness."

"She's a pretty impressive witness."

"I'm talking about something more than her profile."

"She gave us all this." John stood, "And I've got a feeling it'll all hold up to the same scrutiny we used for the Turkish case."

Robert leaned back in his chair, chin resting on his palm. "Is this the point where you're also going to tell me you're not sleeping with her? Because I won't have you buggering this investigation because she's got a pretty face and seems inordinately interested in you for reasons I can't fathom."

"I'm a relatively attractive man."

"Bates!"

"Fine," John raised his hands, fingers curved down to hold the folder in place, "I'm not sleeping with her."

"Don't make me put you to a polygraph to confirm that." Robert dropped his hand and returned to his desk. "And get something cracked about that case before I wonder if we made the right decision keeping her on as your CI."

"Don't worry, I won't cock this up."

"You'd better not."

John walked back to his desk and noted how Talbot peeked from over the top of the folder he read. With a wag of his finger, John silence whatever Talbot might have said. "Considering you've got bag under your eyes and two mugs there that smell of strong coffee to go with whatever other cups are in your bin right now, I don't think you're in a position to say anything."

"I wasn't going to." Talbot put a hand to his head before turning to rummage in a drawer. John pulled a bottle out of his drawer and knocked the top of Talbot's computer to get his attention. "And could you try to not be so loud?"

"Good night then?"

"Um… when you say 'good' I think you-"

Both of them jumped as something slammed down on Talbot's desk. John looked up to see Mary Crawley, her face like thunder, leaving a stack of files before turning toward the other desks. His jaw dropped and John turned to Talbot, his shaking finger pointing back toward Mary as Talbot nodded.

"We both got a little too soused and then…"

"You slept with her?"

"No!" Talbot moaned, holding his head and dropping the folder in the process. "If I was going to sleep with Mary Crawley I'd want to be as sober as could be because I'd want to remember every second of that."

"Then what did you do?"

Talbot drooped over his arms. "I… I went back to hers and we were almost to the point where we'd both be too far gone to stop ourselves when I stopped."

"Oh my heavens, Henry Talbot's an honorable man."

"Shut up!" Talbot tossed one of his empty coffee cups at John, who deflected it into his rubbish bin. "I'm not what you think."

"Or what she thinks." John wiped flecks of coffee off the file in front of him. "What's she got a problem with then? You'd think she'd respect the fact that you both were under the influence and therefore suffering from questionable consent."

"Dubious as consent would've been," Talbot sighed, going for one of the mugs and groaning when he found it empty. "She thought I was having her on and just put her in a vulnerable position to embarrass her."

"Be glad she was drunk then. Means she couldn't have shot you." John flipped a page in the file before making a note to the side.

"Yeah." Talbot shook his head, dropping the file to his desk and meeting John's eyes. "What do you do when you've got to prove to someone you were trying to be a gentleman?"

"I don't know but it must suck when they don't think of you as a gentleman to begin with."

"Hey," Talbot snapped his fingers and John met his gaze. "I won't take that from you. Not when I can see you're wearing the same clothes you were yesterday."

"So what if I am?"

"I know where you've been because I was there and not so drunk that I don't remember who sat down at Mr. John Bates's booth at the bar." Talbot sat back in his seat, risking a satisfied smile before he screwed up his face in pain. With a palm to the side of his head he continued. "Don't tell me, she's good isn't she?"

"Why ask a question you just told me not to answer?"

"So you did… with her?"

John looked around before leaning between their desks toward Talbot, "I've got this nagging suspicion that if I tell you anything then I'll be out on my ear in a second so whatever fun I had last night is staying between me and the person who had fun with me."

"Are we sure she had fun?"

"I went four rounds and she had six so I'd say it was fun." John sat back, "What about your files, anything you've found since we stopped last night?"

"A few things."

John waited, "Are you going to tell me what those things are?"

"After," Talbot picked up both of the coffee mugs on his desk. "I get refills here. And you my want to order in. We'll be sorting through this information for days yet."

True to his word, over the next few days John and Talbot rarely saw the exterior of their building. More than once one or the other of them had to kick the sofa in the break room to get them to wake up. Twice, John tapped Talbot on the shoulder and offer him a cup of coffee while waiting for the imprint of computer keys to leave his partner's face and Talbot managed not to take video of the moment John's chair slid out from underneath him when he fell asleep while leaning back too far.

By the end of the week, they final sorted through the mass of files and Robert finally kicked both of them out of the building. He complained that they smelled but John bet the reality was that the city could not afford the overtime. Talbot offered John a lift but he shook his head.

"If I don't get back to my flat and actually use it then what's the point of having got a new one?"

"To get out from under the shadow of the old one." Talbot shrugged, "The whole place smelled like cigs and shame."

"My shame."

"I know they weren't your cigs." Talbot stretched, squinting toward the sky dramatically. "Is that the sun?"

"Get home and I'll see you at work on Monday yeah?"

"I'm going to sleep all weekend."

"I hope so." John took the Tube toward his flat and climbed the stairs in the opposite direction from most of the people trying to get out of the neighborhood for the morning.

He dodged them, barely missing a woman with a pram, and managed to get onto his street. As he went to pull his keys from his pocket something hit him hard in the side. John stumbled into a wall and ducked a well-aimed crowbar that shattered part of a brick out of the wall where his head had just been. The shower of dust and shards landed over his jacket and in his hair but John raised an arm to protect his head as it came down again.

The crack was nothing compared to the searing pain that echoed through his body. John crumpled to the ground, holding his arm close to his body, and landed to protect his valuables with his left arm. The pavement was unforgiving but whatever bruise he might find on his shoulder the next morning was nothing compared to the way his right arm bent in his jacket.

Looking up, John saw three men. He studied them as quickly as he could before moving. Kicking out with both feet, he caught the closest man in the kneecap. The man went down and John wrapped his legs around the man's neck, pulling tight and twisting to knock the man's head against the wall.

He stayed still as the other two moved in. The crowbar came down again but John rolled toward the man holding it. With his right arm held tight to his chest, John knocked into the other man's legs and led him to stumble. As the man rocked backward, trying to find his feet, John put his leg arm down and pushed up to kick out. His shoes caught the man in the face as he leaned forward to get his balance and two cracks told John he collided with the man's cheek and his nose. The crowbar hit the ground as the man did, holding his nose to try and stop the blood flowing into his mouth.

John landed on his feet, ducked a punch from the third man, and reached for the crowbar with his left. He grabbed it, holding fast, and swung it around to meet the approach of the other man. It caught the man's shoulder and he grabbed for it, giving John the time he needed to crack the man in the face with his elbow. With dazed eyes the man fell to the ground and John let his left arm drop to his side but kept the crowbar in his grip.

Someone clapped from an alcove and John raised the metal rod in his hand, holding fast and above his head as if ready to strike down. But the sight of the gun in his face had him lowering the crowbar slowly. He snuck a quick look around but there was no one on the street and the quiet of the distant traffic told John there would be no one quick to the rescue.

"You are better prepared than I planned." The accented voice set the hairs on John's arms rising but he swallowed back whatever bile he had in his throat to watch the man coming toward him. "I meant for this to be a little more gentle but they got carried away."

"Should've armed them better." John nodded at the three men on the ground, only one of them still making a noise but the other two breathing. "They're pretty green to be out here on their own."

"I know. But life's been difficult lately and we're working where we can." The man patted at his perfect hair and John frowned.

"What's with your fake accent?"

"Excuse me?"

"You kept chewing on your vowels like you're trying to remember to twist them. Where are you really from?"

The gun dropped a touch and John seized his moment. He knocked the man's wrist, hard enough that the gun dropped, and kicked the man in the stomach. He hit the wall and John dropped the crowbar to grab the gun for himself.

With a pull on the hammer, John cocked it and placed the barrel on the man's forehead, "Who do you work for?"

The man quailed, lip quivering, and John pulled back. But the man's face changed in an instant. He charged forward, punching at John's broken arm, and tackling John to the ground. Pain shrieked through John's body and he tried to fight back but the man raised the crowbar above his head and brought it down on John's shoulder.

Another crack and John fought past the pain to knock the man off him. They rolled and John scrabbled for the gun, ignoring the nerves crying out, and finally raised it to the man as they stood facing one another. John blinked, spots darting before his eyes, and he tried to keep himself standing as the overwhelming desire to collapse and faint nudged at him from every corner of his mind.

"Who do you work for?" He ground out each word as the man's shaking hands adjusted their grip on the bar like it was his cricket bat.

"I don't work like that."

John growled against another bloom of pain as he adjusted his aim and fired. The man dropped the crowbar and grabbed for his knee, holding the spot where John's bullet entered. Stumbling over to him, kicking the crowbar away and just managing to knock one of the rising men in the head on its way, John stood over the whimpering man and aimed.

"I won't ask again."

"You won't need to." John turned on his heel, wincing and grimacing as Green walked out of the alcove. "Mr. Barrow and his friends work for me."

"And you wanted them to what? Beat me up? Threaten me? Steal my wallet?"

Green shrugged, "Any of them would've worked."

"Why? Because I didn't pay you for something that wasn't yours to buy and sell." John raised the gun and Green put up his hands, but the smile on the man's face persisted. "What do you want?"

"Just to see what you can do, Mr. Bates."

"Impressed yet?" John bit down, trying to stop his arm from shaking."

"Very." Green pointed to the CCTV at the end of the street. "And I do hope, when you call this in the moment I'm gone, you won't be so foolish as to ask for that footage. I've got a few friends of my own and they made sure it's pointed away from this little corner."

"How brilliant of you." John staggered, holding his right arm as close to his body as he could without the support of his left hand. "What do you want now? You've seen what I can do. What do you know now that you didn't before?"

"That I think Ms. Anna decided to find herself a knight in shining armor."

"Who?"

Green's smile stretched to a leer. "Don't be coy, Mr. Bates, it doesn't suit either of us. We both know who we've got in common."

"I rather hope there's nothing in common between us but the judge who tosses you into a cell."

"And who's going to put me there?" Green sniggered, "You?"

"I'd like to." John lowered the gun slightly. "But since you haven't technically attacked me there's not much I can do to you with this."

"Smart man."

John nodded toward the street, "You'd better make yourself scare then. You know, before I call the rest of this in and they wake up in time to identify you."

"They won't betray me." Green stepped toward John, "Do you know why?"

"I'll guess it has something to do with that thick accent of yours and the gangster act you're bandying about."

"It's not an act if it's the real thing." Green was close enough now that John could almost smell the borscht on him. "I've got friends in places too dark for you to go. Places you only see in the corners of your nightmares."

"You wouldn't want to know what's in the corners of my nightmares." John steadied himself on both legs, facing Green head-on. "You'd never survive there."

"Wouldn't I?"

"No." John swung his forehead forward and cracked down on Green's nose. The man did not move fast enough to avoid it and tripped back over the prone body of Mr. Barrow while holding at his bleeding nose. John raised the gun but instead of firing brought it around to knock against Green's jaw. It was almost cartoonish the way his eyes rolled back into his head at the force of the hit.

John staggered back, moving the gun to his right hand, and dug into his pocket for his mobile. He almost dropped it, the awkward angle making his cracked collarbone ache and scream all the more, but brought it to his ear. "This is DI John Bates. I've been attacked by five men on the street near my house. I need emergency response as soon as possible."

It was everything John could do to stay conscious until police arrived. They rounded up the men coming to and John winked at Green, still holding a swelling nose between two black eyes, before letting his body drop onto the stretcher they brought for him. Robert and Talbot showed up just as John loaded into an ambulance and Talbot insisted on taking the ride with him.

They did not speak on their journey as the paramedic tried everything he knew to reduce pain and set John's broken bones in the mean time. Arriving at hospital was all a blur for John and when he eventually could track time again his right arm was in a solid cast and his left arm stayed close to his body with a tight sling. He adjusted in bed but it disturbed the person sitting in the chair close to him.

"They say you've got a compound fracture in that arm and you're lucky you didn't have to lose it." John blinked as Anna stretched out of the chair, tucking her magazine away. "And your collarbone's in a state but it'll heal faster than your right arm will."

"What are you doing here?"

"Seeing how you are." Anna hopped onto the edge of the bed, winking at him. "As far as I know, Mr. Green's still in holding but they're trying to get him out on bail. Think he'll manage it?"

"They can't let him-" John tried to sit up too fast but Anna put a hand to his chest to push him back when his face contorted with pain.

"I think it's best you leave what people can and can't do to those with two functioning arms." She leaned back, "Quite brave of you really, taking on four men by yourself."

"You think it was stupid."

"I think I don't remember learning that the Met trained its officers to take on multiple assailants after losing the use of their dominant arm."

"I'm left-handed.

"Still." Anna shrugged, "That's something. Where'd you learn that trick?"

"The service."

"Which one?"

John eyed her, "Why don't you just use your mole in my department to find that out?"

"And miss the depth of conversation we might have on your sickbed?" Anna clicked her teeth at him. "I'm trying to get to know you better."

"Tit for tat is it?"

"I'm not showing you my tits in here even if I felt like it'd be a good idea to try and tap you while you're at my mercy." Anna grinned and then hopped off the bed. "As it is, I was hoping to discover a bit more about you before Green sends someone to try and kill you again."

"It wasn't enough he tried to kill me this time?"

"Given that you broke his nose and then called the police on him, no." Anna took a breath, "I think it's fair to assume that you're… in bigger trouble now than you were."

"Tell me," John leaned back against his pillows, staring up at the ceiling. "Why was he waiting outside your building when I left it that morning?"

"Why didn't you just pay him and have done with it?"

"I asked first." John rounded on her, "I'm putting everything on the line and this bed is what I've got to show for my efforts so there better be a damn good reason why he was waiting for me outside your place."

Anna's face crumpled into a scowl. "You think I sold you out, don't you."

"Why wouldn't you? You're SVR and they thought they could intimidate me or maybe even blackmail me with what we did."

"I'm not that kind of person."

"Someone who honey traps?"

"I made my intentions clear from the start. I wanted you, not the other way around." Anna hissed back at him, "And how dare you insinuate that."

"He did. It was all he could say about you." John leaned up, ignoring the pain in his arm. "What else could you be to him or his operation if not someone who lures the unsuspecting and stupid for sex?"

The slap she sent ringing across his face stung worse than the deadened pain of his injuries. He met her furious face and tried to hold back the fury in his own. "How dare you?"

"How dare you get me involved in all of this?" John nodded at his arms, "I could've died."

"Then be grateful it was just your arms." Anna stepped back. "And Green wanted your money as a test of what I might've told you. Thanks to you he now thinks we mean something to one another."

"You're the one who said we were in a relationship."

"Grow up John. This isn't some spy movie where we fall in love and then escape in a hail of bullets to live on a beach somewhere. This is the kind of game where escaping with a few broken bones is victory because anything else means we failed." Anna shook her head, "I thought you understood what you'd gotten yourself into."

"I didn't think I was taking on the Russian mafia or the Russian government."

"Then wake up and smell the vodka."

They stared at one another a moment before John finally spoke, "What are you to Green. And don't bullshit me with you being handled by him. What does he think you are that he'd pull a switchblade on me and then send four men to beat me to death just for touching you."

Anna held her arms close to her chest, trying to pass it off as her crossing them furiously but John saw it for the comfort factor it was. "He thinks we're a couple. That there's something between us because we work together."

"Then it's jealousy? Him trying to pass himself off as your pimp and then kill me?" John snorted, the humor of the situation riding on the ridiculous. "So there's a Chechen man, about to be out on bail, who thinks that he owns you and that me touching you is tantamount to a call for my death. Is that what I'm hearing because I don't want to be wrong here."

"Don't be a prat about this."

"I'm being serious." John's voice hardened, "What else am I going to lose if I continue to help you?"

"Not as much as me if you stop." Anna sighed, "It's your choice, John. I won't hold it against you if you chose to back away now. And consider the information I gave you on Carlisle a going away present."

"Stop," John reached out, grabbing her arm with his broken one but releasing immediately as the pain stabbed him to the shoulder. It took him a moment to fight back the nausea and face her. "You don't get to act all hurt and offended. Not when there's too much on the line right now."

"Then let me spell out for you what's on the line for me." Anna pointed at her chest. "If we fail, I'm dead. Worse than dead, they'll never find my body. I'll be tortured until I break and tell them everything. They'll know your entire life story and the story of everyone you know or even come into contact with. Sometime before I break, and after, they'll left Green have me. And you can imagine what he'll do."

Anna swallowed, working to keep her voice steady. "When they're done, or figure I'm no fun anymore, they'll carve me up. There won't be big enough pieces for me to find anywhere and I'll just be missing. That's when they'll come for everyone else. All of my employees, anyone with the remotest of connections to me or mine will vanish or die, and then they'll go after you. They'll clean house, top to bottom, and start over on the ashes."

John stared at her, "This is about Mary, isn't it?"

"They've threatened her before and that's when they've no clue what she knows." Anna went to take John's hand but stopped herself. "I can't let my cowardice all those years ago take away everything from everyone. I've not got much to lose myself but they have. I won't have them suffer because of me. Even if all I've got left is my dignity, they won't take that with everything else."

John and Anna stared at one another before John nodded. "Find a way to get Green to believe I'm nothing more than a DI you roped into your influence and we'll leave it at that. He won't suspect anything if you tell him you're blackmailing me."

"Aren't I?" Anna pointed behind her. "Your boss comes back and finds me here and he'll know I'm not just your CI."

"Then you'd better leave." John swallowed, "And we'll figure this out."

"You still want to help me?"

"I never stopped wanting to help you. I just wanted to know the truth." John made sure she looked him right in the eyes. "I'm here for the long haul and that means you've got to give me the whole truth. None of these half-truths to make me pity you. I need it all, in whatever gruesome detail there is, because I can't help you otherwise."

Anna nodded, "Once you're out of here, you get it all. Nothing held back."

"Good." John took her offered fingers in his. "Because we are in this together."

"If you say so."


	11. Come at Them from the Side

John nodded at those who clapped as he entered the office, his left arm still held to his chest in a sling and his right arm in a slightly more flexible cast. He took his seat at his desk and blinked at the plain envelope there. Before he could reach it Talbot rolled himself over, sliding his finger under the lip to open it for him.

"Your fingers are a bit delicate for it."

"It's been two months, Henry." John lifted his left arm. "Doctor says this comes off at the next checkup and this the one after that."

Talbot dodged the right arm cast, unfolding the letter. "Do you remember how to type or write or scrub your own ass?"

"You're such a lovely poet Henry." John shook his head and took the paper from him. "How's the case been since I've been gone?"

"Not great, being honest." Talbot shrugged, "We've got through all that information and corroborated most of it with other sources but it was as if the moment we got it down on paper the person then clamed up or they were suddenly unavailable for comment."

"Sounds spooky."

"Sounds like a mole, to be honest." Talbot shook his head, pushing his chair back to his desk. "I was hoping your lovely temperament might help us make some headway with a confused housewife or two."

"Why, because I'm so much more attractive than you?"

"Because you put people at ease." Talbot shook his head. "It's all low-level arrests right now. Runners and people who took the bribes. We've not got anything concrete as yet on Carlisle but we're still digging through the money transfers and the forensic accountants think we might have something soon."

"I don't begrudge the people who have to sort through lines of code the way they do." John blinked, his eyes watering in sympathy. "I couldn't take that."

"I don't think most of them take it but it's what they get paid for." Talbot held up his pile of files. "Chief wants us taking another run through them… see what your CI really left for us in here."

"Pass one over then." John held his right arm forward and Talbot hesitated. "It's mostly for show now, please hand it over."

Talbot did so and John opened the file next to the letter on his desk. His finally read over the wording and he paused with the file. John frowned, reading it over, and then snapped the fingers of his left hand to get Talbot's attention. "Did we ever look back at that file from the Turkish?"

"Which one?"

"Any of them?" John flipped the letter, reading for the back but seeing only a blank sheet there. "Someone's just given me a bloody road map here."

"I hate you." Talbot snatched it out of John's hand, coming round the desk to read the letter and then dropping it onto John's keyboard. "You're back ten minutes and she hands you the next step."

"Maybe she feels guilty that she gave me this." John nodded toward his injuries and then noted Talbot stopped. "What?"

"I thought you said you got attacked by some gangsters."

"I did."

"Then how does…" Talbot pointed and John as his face scrunched and moved through his mental gymnastics until he settled on a flat expression. "You're hiding something from me."

"Henry-"

"No, I'm not taking whatever bullshit excuse you've got for me. There's been something going on between the two of you that's more than her just fancying you." He folded his arms over his chest, "What don't I know?"

John looked over his shoulder and then stood, motioning Talbot to follow him. They passed Mary, who ignored them both, and John led Talbot into the observation room between two interrogation rooms. Closing the door, John ensured all the cameras and anything else was off before digging in Talbot's pocket for his phone.

"You got anything else with a signal on it?"

"What, afraid Skynet's listening?" Talbot stopped at the set of John's jaw. "No, just my phone."

"Good." John shut them both off and tossed them onto the table by the door before dragging Talbot toward the rear of the room. "What I'm about to tell you I need you to keep secret. Even from your own grandmother or your priest or whomever might convince you that they'll keep this a secret."

"Why?"

"Because even telling you puts her life in danger and gets you caught up in this mess with us." John waited but Talbot did not respond. "Are you in or out Henry?"

"I'm not giving you a pinkie promise or anything but yeah," Talbot nodded, "I'm in. You've never steered me wrong before and if you're sure about her then… I can find it in me to try and trust she's not using all this to screw us over."

"When we started working with Anna it was on the condition I'd work for her."

"What?" Talbot pushed John back, "Are you sodding joking? You bastard, you've-"

"Shut up!" John hissed, trying to stop Talbot flailing around and wincing as it pulled his repairing bones and muscles. "I've never worked for her."

"But she's helped us and one plus one equals two John."

"She's helped us because I flipped the tables on her." John sighed, "I put her in zugzwang."

"Please don't use chess terms when I know you don't play."

"She had no choice and she told me she'd help us without me having to be her mole in the department." John bit his lip, "It wouldn't matter anyway since she already has one."

"She's already got someone slipping her information from this office?" Talbot raked his hand through his hair. "Judas Priest John."

"It's for their safety." John waved his hand at Talbot. "Look, I'm not explaining this well but the issue here is that people are watching her. The Turkish, it was a move that put her on our good side and on the good side of people who'll kill her if they think she's turned on them."

"Kill her?" Talbot frowned, "She's running her own gang. Who's going to kill her? Another gang?"

"No, the Russians."

"This sounds like a bad television serial John." Talbot dragged his hands over his face, slumping into a chair. "You're telling me that the woman who was all smooth with you in her own bar is scared so shitless she gave up an entire mob operation just to get on the good side of some Russians?"

"It's the long and the short of it."

"It's ridiculous." Talbot flung an arm toward the door. "She's from bloody Scarborough, John. She's not some Muscovite."

"That was part of her appeal to them. She looks harmless, she's a national, and she's got me on her leash." John took the other chair in the room. "That's the way it needs to look. It's what drove the men who shattered my arm and broke my collarbone to attack me. They were worried about what she might've told me."

"Obviously they went the wrong way about getting information out of you." Talbot looked him over, "You still look like hell and all but you've looked worse."

"Thanks very much for that." John took a breath, "The whole reason she's giving us all of this is in hopes that it'll give us enough to topple the people keeping her under their thumb."

"The Russians?"

"Yeah. They wanted the Turkish gone and she saw the opportunity to use us for it. Now, with the edges of their old network still presenting possible goalposts for the Russians, it's in the best interests of both parties to get rid of them."

"What happens to her, if they don't let her go?"

John shrugged and then winced, "I'm not sure. I know that if they find out that I know about her or that she's told anyone else then we won't have the tools small enough to find her body."

Talbot shuddered, "I'm not picking anyone up with a pair of tweezers."

"Do you understand why I didn't tell you?"

"It's our necks if anyone knows we knew and said nothing." Talbot massaged the back of his neck. "Although, why are we working this between us? Not that I don't think we're the shit or anything but isn't this the business of MI6 or MI5 or some other organization with nicer offices than ours?"

"I asked that and the worry is that if she did that then she vanishes and so does every person she's ever had a nice chat at a tea house with." John shook his head, "The reason this works is because she can make it look like she's got leverage over me and I'm her… bitch."

Talbot snorted, "She doesn't need leverage over you for that. All she had to do was snog you after the presentation ceremony and you were rising to attention for her."

"I'd prefer we left any kind of sexual innuendo out of it."

"Why?" Talbot's mouth opened, "John you didn't!"

"I told Robert I didn't."

"And we both know you're always honest with the Chief." Talbot leaned his head back, both of his hands covering his face before he let out a muffled groan. "I can't get Mary to even have coffee with me and you're schtupping the CI."

"We're not-"

"The Russian CI, no less." Talbot dropped his hands, "Alright, assuming I believe all of this and I don't think it's just something you made up to explain how your new shagbuddy wants to get you into Robert Crawley's job with all this help, then what's next?"

"We need to go and talk to Mr. Pamuk." John chewed the inside of his cheek. "He's still being held in solitary right?"

"They've got him in some minimum security joint since he's technically still a Turkish citizen but they revoked his diplomatic immunity when he embarrassed them so thoroughly." Talbot sniggered, "If he'd gotten out before we arrested him then they would've denied all charges but he got sloppy and-"

"And we had help." John tossed Talbot his phone and turned his own back on. "Let's go pay him a visit and see if he's willing to topple a few other empires for us."

"Maybe he'd like a little payback if we can convince him we got him because someone else betrayed him." Talbot tucked his phone into his pocket, putting a hand on John's shoulder before he left the room. "I don't know what it's cost you to tell me all this, to trust me with it, but I promise you… I won't let you down."

"I never doubted it Henry." John went back to their desks, struggling into his jacket. "I'll be happy when these all come off and I can move freely again."

"Is that even possible at your age?"

"Ha bloody ha." John let Talbot open the door and followed him to his car. "I'm sure you won't be so cocky about it when you're my age."

"By the time I'm your age, you'll be dead." Talbot opened the door for John. "Watch your head and try not to let your incontinence get all over my seats."

"My arms work just fine Henry and I'm not opposed to beating you with your own badge."

They drove to the prison and waited a bit in the visitation room. All the plastic chairs offered little comfort and John forced himself to stand while Talbot shifted in his. "These are where my taxes go?"

"They don't like to give comfort where it's not due." Both men turned as a man in a beige uniform held his hands up to the guard to unlock the handcuffs. "I guess you're lucky you're visiting me in your prisons instead of the ones where I'm from. Those would be far less hospitable."

"Then I guess it's good news, Mr. Pamuk, that we could find a way to get you back to your country if you help us."

Mr. Pamuk laughed, taking his seat as the guard moved to another area of the room to watch them. "I don't think you understand the politics of the situation. And you were the ones overjoyed at having caught me in the first place, surely you're not so eager to see the back of me."

John and Talbot looked at one another and Talbot shrugged, "Seeing as we haven't visited you I'd say we're not too fussed about it."

"Honestly we've not given you a second thought since we helped put your ass in here." John leaned toward Pamuk, "I will admit that there was a moment that an idea flashed across my mind when you lost that smug smirk at your sentencing hearing and I wonder if you'd answer my question."

"And what's that?" Pamuk lost his smile, face slack but harder than before.

"Have you used the soap on a rope?"

"Gua-"

"In all seriousness," John cut over the argument, waving the other man down as Pamuk's face flushed in concert with his fury. "We want to give you a chance to get out of here. To go home and face whatever waits for you there because, as we all know, there's nothing left for you in England."

"And what could you possibly do about the sentence you were so excited to hand me yourselves?"

"That's the interesting question with an interesting answer." Talbot dug into his pocket and pulled out the letter John received that morning. "What do you know about Simon Bricker?"

"Bricker? The art dealer?" Pamuk snorted, "He's an acquaintance from when he helped me select the art in my home in Knightsbridge."

"We all know he's as false as the dentures he's wearing." John shrugged, "Although, he did have a nice opinion when it came to the work of Della Francesca."

"He's a bit stuffy for me." Talbot winced, "I prefer my art dealers with fewer criminals in their circle of friends."

Pamuk's expression perked up, "Excuse me?"

"See, we're pretty sure Mr. Bricker worked with a man named Mr. Carlisle, ring any bells?" John waited but Pamuk shook his head. "We do know that he worked with you and that association, according to the bank records our tireless forensic accountants dug through, extended past him helping you choose art for your flat."

"I might've continued to use his services to buy art for friends of mine living abroad and back in Ankara and Bursa."

"Friends, it's interesting to note, who also have deep pockets cut that way by their involvement with the drug trade." Talbot finished and Pamuk's face set again. "We've found that too. The thing is, we also noticed that Mr. Bricker benefitted from his association with you. He was doing deals with people all over Turkey after he met you."

"What does a man like him have to travel to Konya and Adana for?" John snapped his fingers and held up his right hand, "I think I know. To get a look at the business for himself."

"Even if what you speculate were true, why would I tell you?"

"Because I'm about to let you in on a secret," John lowered his voice, "The Russians you were trying to sell those drugs to, they're the ones who got you put in here."

Pamuk scoffed, "That's what's wrong with you English. You're less paranoid than the Americans because you don't have the nuclear power to fight the Russians but you're still living as if the Cold War were only on ice."

"I think he tried to make a joke there." Talbot made a show of speaking out of the corner of his mouth. "I think he's really getting the hang of English."

"It is impeccable." John returned to Pamuk, scowling at both of them. "It's got nothing to do with us other than the Russian mob now controlling your drug routes with you and all of your minions locked up in as many hidey-holes as we could manage."

"Then what would be the benefit for me to help you?"

"It'd mean you could hide away from them in the security of your own nation instead of waking up every hour wondering when they'll get you in here." Talbot grew serious and john noted the panic Pamuk allowed in his eyes for a second. "That's right. We had a talk with the Governor here and he says you're not sleeping well. And, if I'm not mistaken, you've lost weight since you arrived. I'm guessing you don't eat very much."

"What of it?"

"We want you to roll on Bricker so we can finish dismantling the drug routes he's using. Then he rolls on someone else because, well, he's a rat, and then we go after the Russians running the stuff now."

"You'd take on the Russians?" Pamuk shook his head, "I hope you've updated your wills."

"Suicide's not really our style."

"But it is theirs." Pamuk tilted toward them, John putting up a hand to stop the guard coming closer. "They'll make it look like an accident. A slip in the shower, a forgotten pot on the gas stove you never lit, or maybe even a lorry that happens to not see someone walking into the road."

John paled and he forced a swallow. "What did you say?"

Pamuk only smiled, leaning back. "I do hope you're not so stupid as to think the path to getting the Russians lies in a straight line. They're a country never conquered by anyone but those who lived there. They walk all over the people here because, in their minds, you're weak. Weakened by television and comfort and your democratic systems. You've not had to claw your way to the edge of survival every day of your lives and they revel in your ineptitude."

"Then let me remind you that this island's not been conquered since the Normans invaded."

"And Turkey was once the home of a great Ottoman empire." Pamuk stood, "All things crumble to dust eventually. It'd be a shame if you helped it happen."

"And it'd be a shame if the last words you hear in your life were Russian." John stood as well, "Take the deal, Mr. Pamuk, and maybe you live a bit longer."

"I'll take my chances on my own, thank you." Pamuk turned to leave as Talbot sighed.

"Then I guess it's going to be really inconvenient for you when the Governor hears exactly how cooperative you've been with us today."

"He's right," John pointed at Talbot as Pamuk looked over his shoulder at them. "Everyone's going to notice your specialized treatment for good behavior."

"And then they'll all wonder," Talbot rose, gesticulating with his hands. "How'd he get that? What's he done to earn special privileges? What's he said?"

"I can imagine you won't have long to wait for whatever end you fear once that hits the fan." John walked past him, "But I guess that's between you and the Russians and we'd best keep out of it."

"Yes," Talbot nodded, "Wouldn't want to topple our empire on our own now would we?"

They almost reached the door when Pamuk called out to them, "Can you really get me home?"

"Since most of the evidence against you was by association I'm sure we could discuss reasons for extradition to Turkey and never allowing you back in the country." John waited, "But it'll cost you."

"Simon Bricker hosts an art show, twice a year. It's a big to do and he uses it as a cover to sell arranged pieces to buyers that then use the crates to carry their shipments of drugs out in large quantities. He also uses it to make more connections and arrange further meets for sales."

"How do we get to him?" John narrowed his eyes and Pamuk shrugged.

"Get yourself an invite. He's not careful and he's not good at it. Frankly he's an idiot but what can you do?"

"Not much if you're an idiot." Talbot nodded at the guard. "He's going to take you to another location. You're moving to a safe house and, when we've got your release, you'll be on the next flight to Istanbul."

"I don't suppose you're expecting a thank you."

"Not really." John and Talbot walked out of the room, getting their things back from the guards as they went to leave the prison.

But the flashing lights on the walls stopped them and both turned as two guards immediately covered them. John tried to move but the guard held up a baton and menaced him into silence before pulling his radio to his lips. "What's going on in there?"

"Prisoner injured. Stabbing with something in the back."

"Bloody hell." The man groaned, "He'll be bleeding everywhere."

"Who is it?" Talbot tapped the man's shoulder, "Who is it?"

The guard took the radio again, "Who is it?"

"It's the Emperor himself." The voice on the other end squawked back and the guard sighed.

"We're going to be in the shit now."

A moment later a gurney, carrying a pale and shuddering Pamuk, rushed past them. John and Talbot tried to follow its progress but the guards kept them back. When they eventually could leave, and reported back to their desks, both kept themselves a bit more shamefaced as they stood in front of Chief Crawley's desk.

"What were you thinking, getting that man shivved?"

"Technically you say someone is shanked, not shivved. Shiv is the weapon, or the noun, and shank is the verb."

Chief Crawley rounded on Talbot, "If you speak again, Talbot, I'll knock you back to night watchman. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir."

"We worked it out with a silk, sir." John spoke up, eyeing Talbot's steady stare at the floor. "It was the only way to get Pamuk out of danger."

"You almost destroyed that man's kidneys."

"There wasn't a chance of that." John shook his head, "The man they hired for it knew exactly what he was doing. It was a lot of blood but no real damage. Mr. Napier recommended him and said-"

"The next time you two pull this cowboy stunt again you're both gone. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." They responded in unison and Chief Crawley sat down.

"Now, what's this about needing to get into an art show with Simon Bricker?"

John cleared his throat, "It's a sting to get at a drug operation."

Chief Crawley groaned, "I'm already going to hate this plan."

"Maybe not sir." Talbot risked it, shrugging, "You might just detest it a bit but you'll get to dress up and take your wife on an outing… It could be fun."

Chief Crawley narrowed his eyes, "How?"


	12. Dress to Impress

John staggered into this flat, hauling the sling over his head to toss onto the island of his bare kitchen. The only piece of furniture in the sitting room was a sofa facing a blank wall but as John turned on the light he jumped when he saw Anna curled in the corner of it. She held up a glass of dark liquid as he pulled his tie loose to toss on top of the sling.

"I hope you don't mind, I brought you real wine and decided to help myself to some it so I knew it wasn't poisoned."

"Real wine?"

"It's not from a box, John." She sipped at it. "How'd it go with Mr. Pamuk?"

"Your plan was a work of genius." John stretched his arm carefully. "So said my friend, Mr. Blake, when he got a chance to work his artistry."

"I did hear his knife work was expert." She set the glass on the floor. "And I'm glad I could help."

"Talbot wasn't too happy that you helped me get a win the day I got back." John sat on the sofa and sucked in as Anna crawled toward him, straddling him. "Anna?"

"Don't get too excited." She warned, massaging carefully at his shoulder and collarbone. "I'm making sure you're all in one piece."

"You might want to break me into pieces yourself in a moment." Anna's hands stopped and she met his eyes. "I told Talbot about your… situation."

Anna slid off him, perching herself on the sofa as she reached for her glass again. "Oh?"

"He deserved to know how I got injured and why you felt… compelled to give me information."

"You couldn't just say it's because you're good in bed." Anna took a long pull. "Not that I've had a chance at that in a bit but you're injured and I tend to keep away from the infirm in the cases of strenuous activity."

"I've got a broken arm and a damaged collarbone. I'm not disabled."

"Still." Anna got off the sofa, taking her empty glass to the sink. "You're not exactly well, are you?"

"I hope you're not about to make some kind of crack about my potential performance."

"Maybe." Anna returned to the couch, stretching out on it so her business trousers pulled up her legs and John finally noticed she left her shoes by the door. "What'd Pamuk tell you?"

"Bricker's got a little event he does twice a year as a way to move more product and make the connections he needs." John paused, looking around the flat but turned back at the sound of Anna's laugh. "What?"

"Your place isn't bugged and no one knows I'm here." Anna shrugged, "Even after coming here for two months no one's got a clue so don't fret yourself about it."

"Don't fret myself?" John snorted, "When did we sink into a period piece?"

"About the time you decided you couldn't help but be the dashing hero in some PBS special." Anna shifted, running a hand through her hair as she slipped lower on the sofa and her feet rested on his leg. "What's your Chief Crawley going to do?"

"He's organizing a sting for it. We figure Bricker's crumple in a second."

"From experience I can tell you that's a thing." Anna shrugged, "Then you'll get a major part of the drug operation out of the way and you move forward."

"Forward how?"

"You've still got all those papers on Carlisle." Anna waved at him, "Get rid of him too."

John frowned, shaking his head. "No, you've got something else going on with this. What is it?"

Anna sat up, "I was never directly involved with that portion of the business, but I know Alex mentioned he wanted a way to legitimize the business."

"Invest in stocks then."

"It's not that simple." Anna shook her head. "What I'm talking about it a way for them to protect the business by making it harder to tear apart. You make a drug bust at Bricker's party and that's one thing because it's a lot of cash and lips you hope never flap loose. You have a legitimate business venture and then you're tied up for months and years in legal work, countersuits, defamation claims, and a mountain of interviews sorting through the people who have no idea they worked for the mob and the ones at the top who do versus the scum with their own private accounts because they're just horrible people."

"And Green wanted that?"

"The Russians want that. It's the best way to keep their foothold in this country." Anna tucked her feet under her on the sofa, "It's why they wanted the Turkish gone. With Pamuk the media darling he was they would've solidified first and made it a terrible venture for the Russians."

"Maybe we made a mistake taking down the Turkish."

"Oh no," Anna shook her head. "You're talking about a group who learned everything they know about being the worst of people from the Russians and then made it worse because they've not got a Motherland to protect. They fight dirty and mean."

"Don't the Russians do that?"

"They'll take out your kneecaps and then give you this who schpeel about how much it hurts them. The Turkish'll kill your grandmother in front of you before wearing the skin of her dog like a coat." Anna shuddered, "As much as I hate the Russians, I don't want anything to do with the Turkish."

"I'm starting to wish I'd stayed in school and read literature."

"If you're only having that thought for the first time now, it's already too late." Anna waited, "I think we've both got ourselves in way over our heads and we've only just realized it."

"Like how you think I wouldn't notice you skived off answering me about Carlisle." John adjusted himself on the sofa, catching her foot and massaging it. He smiled as he watched her shiver with the motion. "What's your worry about him?"

"Other than the fact I think I might've pushed him over the edge when I had a law firm send him pictures of him with your wife in what I'd term a very low-grade porno?" Anna settled back, her hands on her stomach so her button down bunched there. "Probably because he's one of those people who'll do bad things for personal gain."

"Did he try to gain with Green?"

"I think so but I could never prove it outright." Anna tipped her chin to look down her body at John. "Is that alright for your hands?"

"They're almost all healed." He took her other foot. "Don't try to distract me and keep talking."

"Taskmaster." Anna settled back again. "I'm pretty sure he and Bricker worked together in something illegal. Not the drugs, necessarily, but my own research put the two of them in too many of the same places."

"Greedy people getting together to find ways to be more despicable and greedy?" John worked a knot in Anna's foot and she hissed. "Sorry."

"Must be the heels."

"Not what I'd expect you to wear when you're behind a bar all day."

"Gwen's behind the bar all day. I've got an office and I was fighting the local council about a liquor license so I had to dress up."

"You look nice."

"Thank you." Anna pulled her feet out of his grip, moving over the sofa to get closer to John. "In reality, my interest in Carlisle is because I think he's the one who killed our wife."

John sat back, "What?"

"I think… I think he had a hand in it. Erasing the evidence before it could fully bite him in the ass." Anna grimaced, "And avoiding her coming calling for a permanent room when your divorce came through."

"I got the papers that morning and she was dead before the end of the day. How'd he-"

"Remember what I said about legitimate business?" Anna swallowed, "I think Alex did it to convince Carlisle of two things."

"What things?"

"First, that they could solve his problems."

John took a breath, "And the second?"

"That they could organize something that quickly."

"They can get to him at any time, anywhere, with no warning." John nodded, "It's effective."

"It's very Russian." Anna sighed, "They're always watching."

"Not here." John put his hand on her shoulder, sliding down her arm to hold her fingers. "They're not watching you here. Here you're safe."

Anna shifted onto her knees and leaned over John. Her free hand went to his face and she held him in place to put her lips on his. It was not like any time before when the blood thundered in his ears and made any thought beyond their almost animalistic desire impossible. This held him enthralled in a small world she built with pressure on his hand and soft strokes over his face.

"Anna?" He whispered to her as she pulled away but Anna put a finger to his lips, silencing him.

"Don't move." She drew her lips over his jaw toward his ear, pulling his earlobe between her teeth before breathing her next words there. "I'm going to go slowly and you're not to move. I don't want anything to break on you again."

John could only nod as Anna brought her hands to his shirt, unbuttoning it carefully and turning to his cuffs before helping him out of it. His soft cast caught a moment but Anna eased the fabric of the shirt back to lay a line of kisses over his arm toward his healing shoulder. Her fingers followed the patterns of the fading bruises and the scars from where they stitched him back together. Each place she paused received a kiss or a slight massage of her fingers until John could do nothing but lay back against the sofa and breathe deeply.

She pulled at his undershirt and John shifted to help her get it over his head before her lips returned to his. The gentle caress of her tongue matched the kneading motions of her fingers in his hair as John floated on the edge of serenity. It was the sweetest, slowest seduction he ever experienced at the hands of another person and all he could do was give himself over to the tide of gentle adoration.

Anna worked down his chest, pulling John to stretch his legs out from the sofa. She set her feet on the floor with barely a sound but for the thump of weight there. Her knees knocked the wooden paneling next and John almost stopped her when she took his laces in hand but her raised eyebrow silenced him. He sat back and watched as she placed his shoes to the side of the sofa, pulled off one sock and then the other, and worked her own massage up his legs.

Her fingers at his belt did not tease so much as glide over him. With as relaxed as he was, John barely comprehended any kind of arousal at all. Instead he jumped when her fingers pulled his belt loose and happened to brush against him. But she batted his hand away when he tried to stop her removing his trousers.

"This is about you, John." She kissed over his fingers before placing his hand on the back of the sofa and taking his mouth with her own. "Let someone spoil you for a change."

"Have you been spoiled lately?"

"You might be surprised to know that they say abstinence heightens the experience." Anna tugged at his ankles to loosen his trousers until John wore only his boxers while Anna only sacrificed her shoes. "I'm hoping it's true."

"It depends, greatly, on who you're waiting for."

"I hope so." Anna slipped her fingers under the elastic of his boxers, sliding them over his legs until John sat nude on his sofa and Anna straddled his legs again. "I'm looking forward to it."

Her mouth set to work kissing nipping, and sucking a steady line of affection over his jaw and neck as her hand tempted and teased him to fully arousal. Just as before, she did not hurry. Each motion measured itself for full effect, drawing pleasure to the very edges of its lifespan and then turning to the next spot. With one hand she squeezed and pulled at his arousal and the other kneaded the skin of his chest or trilled her nails over his abdomen or smoothed at the hair at the back of his head. Each move brought him a half-step closer to the edge until John broke their kiss to try and keep himself focused on the task in her hand.

"Let go, John." Anna slid back from him, spreading his legs wide enough to allow her to kneel between them. "Let it all go."

She left a trail of kisses down his chest before taking his head in her mouth. Sucking just lightly enough to send his fingers digging furrows into the sofa, Anna kneaded the muscles of his taut thighs to relax him. John struggled between the wrap of her tongue and the heat of her mouth around him, riling him up, and the ever adoring way she touched the rest of him.

Her mouth took him deeper, working him to the edge as her hands finally abandoned their slow seduction. One hand went to his base, squeezing and guiding him to swell in her grip, and the other fingered over his sack. John scrunched his eyes closed, trying to hold back, but when Anna dragged her teeth over him he could only surrender like she asked him to.

The haze cleared from his mind and he blinked at her as she got up, straddling his legs again with a smile. "Was that so bad?"

"There aren't words for what it was." He brought a hand close, but stopped himself. "Am I allowed to touch now?"

"Yes." Anna took his hand, placing it on her cheek. "I hope you didn't find me too forward."

"I haven't been sucked off in awhile so I can't say if I even know what forward would be in this case."

"Then I'll continue." Anna laughed at John's confusion. "I know it's been a shorter break between this time and the last time you had sex, but I seem to remember someone who went four rounds in one night in my flat and I'd like to see a round two."

"What'd you have I mind?"

"Let me worry about that." Anna held his face in her hands again, teasing him with quick kisses and the occasional flick of her tongue into his mouth.

John brought his left hand to hold at her back, running over her skin beneath her blouse, and reacquainting himself with the smoothness there. She shifted to allow him access to more before placing her hand at his wrist to move him away. It broke their kiss and John frowned at her but she only smiled.

In the dim light from the street lamps that reflected through the shades and the weak overhead light in his sitting room, John's jaw dropped as Anna slowly stripped. Unlike when she undressed him, this was for show. Each popped button was strictly for the shifts in his body and the way he readjusted his feet on the floor or his posture on the sofa. When she turned to drop her trousers and bent so her ass was toward him, John choked at the sight of the thong leaving her all but exposed to him. And when she walked back toward him, in just her knickers and a bra that seemed more for fashion than function, John swallowed hard just to try and find breath.

Anna grinned at him, bending to kiss his neck again and leaving him vibrating with nervous energy as he struggled not to move against her too much. But her moan of approval, accompanied by a soulful suck at his pulse, had John rubbing himself against the material of her thong. She set her knees into the cushions of the couch and ground down on him with her fingers gripping his shoulders to give herself the leverage that sent John's head back in a groan.

His fingers, not quite as dexterous as hers with the cast in the way, managed to unclasp her bra. Anna let one arm and then the other loosen the bra enough to fall off her arms and then dangle at the tips of her fingers before she dropped it to the floor behind her. John's mouth went dry and he licked over his lips before leaning forward to kiss her. They both moaned for themselves when Anna pressed herself to his chest and the tightening of her nipples matched the swelling John pressed to her core.

But when Anna risked a move back, to try and find an better angle, John took her breast in his mouth. His left hand massaged the other breast carefully, trying to match the slow, methodical sensations she brought out earlier, but when Anna clutched the back of his head to bring him closer to her, all John could do was move faster. She arched her back, offering more to him and John brought his covered hand to her other breast. For a second he feared the worst but the scratch of the cast tightened Anna further and John reveled in the way she cried out as he suckled at her.

His free hand, unimpeded by the miracle of modern medicine, pulled at the string of her thong. Anna jumped a bit as it stretched at her core and John traced the line toward her clit. Her whimper changed to a harsh cry when her mind went from the attention kisses he laid over her breasts to the insistent pressure and manipulation of her delicate nerves under his careful fingers. And nothing matched the screech accompanying the sharp dig of her nails into the back of his neck when he ran hid fingers over her folds and pressed into her.

She rode his fingers with abandon, never losing hold of him as he tried to continue the barrage of teeth and tongue at her breasts while his fingers slid in and out of her. The cling of her vaginal walls had him bucking against her and the pressure between the two sent Anna over the edge. Her forehead hit his uninjured shoulder and her grip on his neck slackened enough for John to kiss hers until she raised her head.

Without a word she stepped back, dropped the remainder of her clothing- scrap though it was- and mounted him in a smooth stroke. They paused, she holding herself just on the tip of him until they both whimpered for mercy, and sank down. The ride remained steady. When either of them wanted to speed up the other slowed on purpose. Their fingers smoothed over skin and tantalized with the barest of touches instead of hauling and gripping in ravenous pleasure. A slow build at the base of John's spine signaled his body's need to release and a deep thrust into Anna to let out a gasp of pleasure led his fingers to help bring her with him.

As they finished, bodies letting the last of their quivering affections leave them resting together on the sofa, Anna curled herself toward John. He held her close, placing a gentle kiss at her temple as his hand stroked down her spine. A moment later she pulled herself away and bent to kiss him before gathering her clothes.

"If I'm not home at all tonight, they'll notice."

"Stay." John caught her fingers, pulling her closer to him. "You don't need to go."

"If I stay too long they'll get suspicious." Anna brushed his hair back. "Even if they think you're working for me, I can't risk them finding you again."

"Because I'm breakable?"

"We're all breakable John."

"Then stay."

She pressed a kiss to his forehead, the pressure of it telling him she wouldn't. "Next time."

"At least use the shower." John stood up, wondering if he should feel self conscious as he gathered his clothing like they were both about to do the walk of shame from his flat. "So you're not…"

"So I don't feel like a prostitute?" Anna grinned at him. "I think I'll take you up on your offer."

"And next time," John shrugged, wincing and holding his shoulder to massage the pain away. "Next time we can share the bottle of wine you brought."

"It's good." She took her things into his bathroom. "Better than your boxed stuff."

"So you said." John waited at the door as Anna tied her hair up and turned on the shower. "Hey, would you want to go to the gallery with me?"

Anna paused, her hand inside the shower before removing it quickly and shaking it off as she adjusted the temperature. "As a date?"

"I'll need one since, let's face it, I'm not one who's going to be making a showing at an art gallery without a reason."

"Like someone to impress?" Anna paused, her nails clicking on the counter. "How'll your boss take that?"

"I'll say I need you to help identify players."

"If anyone there knows me then we're already buggered." Anna bit her lip, "But Bricker might talk to us, give you something on a wire, if he thinks I'm there representing someone larger than myself."

"So you'll go?"

Anna shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I might like the idea of a fancy dress party. I haven't been to one in ages."

"Then it's a date." John stopped, "In general terms, not specifically or anything because-"

"John," Anna walked over, kissing him to stop his muddled train of thought. "It's fine. And yes, I'd like to go."

"With me?"

"Don't make this secondary school." She got into his shower, pulling the curtain around the tub. "Of course I want to go with you. Who else is going to ask me to a fancy party when we're naked?"

"No one I hope."

She ducked her head out, "That's the point. Silly beggar."


	13. Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder

John pulled at his tie, entering the pub to the wolf whistle of the girl behind the bar. "You're looking quite the catch tonight Mr. Bates."

"Thank you, Gwen." He pointed toward the stairs, "Is she up there?"

"Yeah. Last minute stuff before she went off to play Cinderella for the night." Gwen motioned him up. "She's just finishing up now."

"I'll go up and remind her we're a bit on the clock." John took the stairs to the office on the second floor and rapped his knuckles against the wood as he pushed the door open.

She looked up, phone to her ear, and held up a finger as John entered the room. "No. No we didn't order that one. We ordered… Listen… I have the order right in front of me and there's not… We've never ordered this from you before. Then… Look, I understand you've never dealt with my orders before but… Just… Look, if you could please put her on it'd be…"

Anna groaned, hanging her head before shaking it. "Look, look, LOOK! I'll call back tomorrow when she's actually there and can tell me how you managed to totally cock up this whole thing."

John whistled as Anna snapped the phone into its cradle and she looked up at him. "That was dramatic."

"They blew it." Anna flung her hand toward the phone. "Sent us the wrong order and then have the gall to tell me I don't know what I'm doing."

John sat down, pointing at the phone. "Would you want to keep this job after your… friends aren't an issue anymore?"

"I'm good at it." She shuffled the papers on her desk, clearing it a bit. "I guess it's what I've done for so long I don't know what I could do other than this."

"But if you could?"

Anna leaned over the desk, smiling at him. "What do you have in mind Mr. Bates?"

"At some time you'll have to think about how you'll get out of this." John stood up, walking around to join her on the other side of the desk. "Even if we do get all of your Russian friends put away you'll still have to get yourself out of their reach."

"I'm sure you're about to suggest I take part in the nation's tax-funded program that'll give me a lovely life as a shop keeper or a laundress on some forgotten moor somewhere." Anna shook her head, "I've got no interest in ever having to take a different name and lead a life where I have to make calls to people who wear badges for a living."

"You're already living a life where you make calls to people who wear badges for a living." John pointed to himself, leaning over her as Anna settled on the edge of the desk.

"Alright, if you want to be a pedant, then yes that's my life. All the more reason why I should want to live a life free of whatever drama I'm handling right now."

"What if I gave you something else to handle?" John ducked his head to kiss at her neck. "Would you want that?"

"Aren't we a little stretched for time?"

"Maybe," John grinned at her, fingers running over her sides. "I'd hate to waste a chance to ravish you in this dress."

"There's time after the party." Anna held onto his neck as John kissed toward her exposed collar and shoulder, shifting the wrap she had over her shoulder to drape at her neck and leave the strapless bodice of her dress exposed. "Then you can strip me as much as you want."

"There's plans for that too." John checked his watch, meeting her eyes. "But if there's hay to be made then we might as well use them to our advantage. Especially since you're wearing this dress."

"It's old."

"I think you're lying." John flicked his fingers over her shoulders, running one under the edge at her back. "This feels like the last bits of a tag."

"You're one of those by-the-books people aren't you?" Anna spread her legs as John laid her back on the desk, gliding over her with his hands slipping on the silky material. "You insist on being one of those who need to be right about everything."

"Only when it brings out this blush on your cheeks." John kissed at each cheek and then went back to covering her exposed collar and shoulders with his lips instead.

"Did we just fall into a period romance?"

"Not sure I'd be about to have sex with you on your desk in a period piece."

"Who knows," Anna shrugged, gripping her fingers in John's hair as his hands found the edge of her dress and worked under it to run over her legs. "You never know what you might read on the Internet these days."

"Like this scenario?" John used the material of the dress to glide Anna over the surface of the desk so her ass rested right on the edge. He reached behind him to drag the rolling chair under him as he bunched the dress at her waist before setting her heels on either side of him. "Where I'm about to eat you out before taking you to a party?"

"Just like this." Anna raised herself up on her arms and smiled at him. "Is this because you want to have some kind of primal hold over me?"

"I was just thinking about how great it'd be to have you writhing and screaming my name before we go to a party." John massaged up her legs and played with the edge of her knickers. "Though some time we'll need to really talk about your choice of seductive underwear."

"Are we now?" Anna shook her head, the hair piled there bouncing slightly.

"It's distracting and I want to take it off you but then what would you wear?" John dragged her knickers down her legs and then set them on the desk beside her. "I don't want to be ripping these apart with my teeth."

"My wallet thanks you." Anna tried to laugh but then dug her elbows into the desk as John lowered his head to drag his tongue over her. "Shit."

"That's better." John used his fingers in a V to drag along the edges of her core. He flicked his thumb against her clit before drawing it between her folds. When Anna shivered with it he lowered himself to suck at her clit as his fingers continued to tease her open.

He let his tongue work lower, trading between his fingers and tongue to keep her writing on the desk. His tongue pointed to draw solidly between her folds and then reversed to flatten it in time with the kneading motions he applied to the inside of her thighs. Anna twitched and John drew back to kiss the delicate skin of her thighs as he looked up at her.

"Do you want me to continue?"

"If you stop I will shoot you between the eyes." Anna's neck arched back when John teased her with a finger circling over her before sliding into her.

"Then I'll continue." He kissed back to her folds, pulling them into his mouth as he added another finger to open her a bit more.

Anna's hips lifted from the desk and John hurried to put a hand under her, holding at her ass to keep her close to him as he moved his mouth back to pull her clit into his mouth. She dug her heel into the chair at his side and almost boxed his ears between her legs when she tried to clench her thighs together as she came. John pulled back, massaging her down as Anna gasped for air.

He carefully withdrew, standing over her as her eyes rolled a bit. "Was that enough?"

"No." Anna grabbed at his shirt, crunching it in her grip to drag his lips to hers. Her other hand struggled at his belt but John lost himself in the rough thrust of her tongue inside his mouth. The clink of his belt against her desk pulled him back to the moment and he grunted when her hand tried to wrap over him through his boxers.

"Just…" He pulled back a moment to drop his trousers and boxers before dragging Anna closer to run himself over her.

"Keep going." Anna breathed into his neck as she held at his hips with her thighs and John thrust forward.

They paused a moment, Anna shifting her legs higher to grip his waist and John trying to slip as deeply into her as he could, and she let go of his shirt. John pulled to the edge and then drove back in. Her legs tightened around him and lifted her hips to meet each of John's motions with her sensitive nerves. Each of her whimpers and moans had John struggling to bring Anna closer to try and drive her over the edge again.

Her hand came between them and John stuttered a second when she brushed him while bringing herself to climax again. He finished and caught himself on the desk without dropping her to the surface, and huffed out as he tried to breathe. His body quivered and lowered her gently before pulling back to almost collapse onto her chair.

"We're late." Anna laughed, one hand seeking out her knickers and the other grabbing a few tissues.

John took the tissues she offered and cleaned himself before helping her do the same. She hissed, almost pulling away from him, and John paused. Anna shook her head, "Just sensitive."

"Right." He smoothed over her, tossing the tissues into the bin and helping her get her knickers back into place. "And we are late."

"Then," Anna held the edge of the desk, pulling her dress into place and using her phone to check her hair. "We should go."

"Yes we should." John took her hand, kissing it. "I hope you don't mind that I just took advantage of you on your desk."

"I think you need to remember that I was an active and willing participant in that." Anna patted his shirt, straightening it to try and get rid of the wrinkles she left there. "And, if you're also wondering, I would have shot you if you'd left me on the edge like that."

"It wouldn't be very gentlemanly if I had."

"I'm not looking for a gentleman when there's an orgasm on the line." Anna dug her clutch from a drawer and tucked her phone into it. "We've got a party to attend."

They left through the now bustling pub, Anna waving to Gwen who managed to give John a thumbs up before he took them to his car. Opening the door, John tried to avoid Anna's laugh and walked around to his side of the car while trying to ignore the vibration of his phone in his pocket. But Anna heard it and reached into his pocket to check the caller as John started the car.

"Your partner is calling you." Anna waved it in her hand and John shrugged without looking at it.

"He's just telling me I'm late and he'll make some comment about what I'm doing with my time."

"Oh?" Anna slid the indicator over and John tried to reach for it but she moved out of his grasp and pointed to the road for John to drive. "This is John Bates's phone."

John gripped the wheel and pushed his car to its speed to try and beat her conversation to their destination. "Hang up on him."

Anna covered the speaker and lowered her voice to speak at him, "Too bad it's not Talbot."

"What?"

"Yes, he's right here. No, it's totally fine. I understand why he hasn't told you about me. We're just newly dating and I think he wanted to make sure it'd work. That's right. Oh, I'd love to come to dinner Sunday. I'm sure he'd love to bring me so you can ask him why he's not told you about me yourself." Anna squinted her eyes and then shrugged, involved in the conversation and, John suspected, trying to rile him up more. "I guess I'd love some classic steak and kidney pie but I never say no to shepherd's pie so I think it's up to you. Of course, I could go for some lovely Irish cooking. That's very sweet of you. Yes I'll tell him. Enjoy your evening. It was lovely meeting you."

Anna ended the call and reached around him to tuck the phone into his pocket. "Your mother sounds lovely."

"You said it was Henry."

"I did." Anna nodded, "But I thought it was more fun to answer the call."

"What did she say?"

"As a trained observer I'd think the half of the conversation you heard would be sufficient to figure it out." Anna turned to him, "Really John, it'd almost be taking all the fun out of it to tell you anything but that your mother sounds like the sweetest woman I've ever spoken with over the phone."

"She used to be a telemarketer."

"I would've bought whatever she sold me." Anna waited a beat, "Did you really never tell her about me?"

"Why would I tell her about my CI?"

"Do you sleep with all the other CIs you've had?"

John bit the inside of his cheek, "These was this old Italian man. Greasy gray hair and this belly that hung over his trousers. It was a torrid affair that lasted three months before he decided to retire to Mexico." Anna snorted, covering her mouth to try and regain her dignity as John continued. "He was so torn up about it and suggested I should run away with him. We drew quite a scene at the airport before I told him I was married to my job."

"Not to mention a wife." Anna wiped at her face, blowing out to breathe and speak again. "But I was serious about Sunday dinner with your mother."

"Now that she knows you exist what do I tell her about you?"

"You made me orgasm on my desk." John almost hit the gas pedal and only a quick moment stopped him rear ending the car in front of him at the red light. "Careful John, we've got to get there in one piece."

"You're doing this on purpose."

"It's my job." Anna settled back in her seat, "I'm supposed to own you in some small way and this is how I do that."

"Not sure you need to." John pulled into the flow of traffic. "You already own me."

They were silent, each wrapped in their own thoughts as John drove up to the valet outside the showroom. The valet barely managed to contain his sneer at the car but John ignored him to help Anna out of the car. When she existed, adjusting her wrap to cover her torso and then hang behind her, the valet's jaw dropped so he almost dropped the keys John tossed him.

"I think he's wondering what the customs agent who questioned John Krasinski about who his wife was."

Anna frowned, adjusting her wrap and taking John's hand with one of hers while her other held the edge of her dress to walk up the stairs. "What?"

"The man from the American version of _The Office_?" John waited but Anna only shrugged, "The one married to Emily Blunt."

"Oh," Anna nodded and then shrugged, "I could see the man's point."

"Which one?"

"The customs agent." Anna stopped at the top of the stairs, turning to John, "Which one did you think?"

"I thought you meant…" John gestured vaguely toward the valet and Anna craned her head down to watch the man.

"His opinion means about as much to me as American news casters and their fear mongering." She took his head, "Come on."

They entered the gallery and John paused to tilt his head back and appreciate the art around them. Wandering around the room he found Anna's hand constantly at his arm to guide him through the lines of people for fear he would collide with someone in his fascination with the art around them. Eventually they worked over the whole gallery and John put a hand through his hair as he shook his head.

"This is possibly the most gorgeous room I've stood in for a long time."

"Do you not take time to appreciate art very often?" John tipped his head down to see a man with bugged out eyes and slicked back gray hair approaching them with two glasses of champagne. He passed one to Anna and ignored John.

"I usually spend my time appreciating the female form instead." John held his smile as Anna snorted into her drink and the man's lip curled slightly. "I find true dedication to something like that takes skill and finesse and practice. Not to be rushed."

"Art is… flexible, in its many forms." The man tried to keep his twitching mouth under control, forcing his hand forward for John to shake. "I'm Simon Bricker, owner and operator of this establishment."

"Johannes Bernhard." John took his hand back, motioning to Anna. "And this is Anna Schmidt, my date for the evening."

"Germans, how lovely."

"Only some of the time." Anna shook his hand, "We're actually here on the recommendation of Mr. Green. I'm sure you know who he is."

Bricker paled and leaned toward them, "I told him it wasn't until tomorrow. He does know, doesn't he?"

"Of course he does." Anna put her hand on the man's arm, "He just wanted us here as…"

"Eyes and ears." John finished, his own hand clapping the man's shoulder. "Surely you're aware of the way the police are circling the old stomping grounds of our dearly departed friend, Mr. Pamuk."

"I heard about it, yes." Bricker swallowed, "Did they really… get him?"

"Gutted like a fish was what I heard." John faced Anna, "Did you hear differently?"

"I thought they just stabbed him in the kidney." Anna shrugged, "But when one's bleeding out slowly on the floor of their prison I guess it's all semantics in the end."

Bricker gulped the rest of his champagne, "Please inform Mr. Green that Mr. Carlisle and I won't be late on this shipment. Our standard is, as always, of the highest degree."

"Of that we have no doubt." John lowered his voice, "But Mr. Green is feeling a bit…"

"Worried." Anna cut in, pulling their little trio to the side and allowing a moment for Bricker to nod at some guests greeting him as they came in. "He wants us to lay eyes on it ourselves, just to be sure."

"What could he have to worry about?"

"He fears that recent events might've spooked you toward a more… law abiding avenue." Anna covered his hands with hers. "We're aware you wouldn't be so foolish but Mr. Green's a little uncouth. He doesn't understand the idea of the promises gentlemen make and we're here to bridge that gap."

"As a gentleman yourself," John touched Bricker's shoulder again, "We know you'd never go back on a deal but he's not one to trust in what he can't see."

"Right." Bricker nodded, straightening to leave his glass on a passing tray and pull his cuffs out. "Follow me then."

They walked through the gallery, John still taking the time to note the gorgeous art and even make eye contact with a dapperly dressed Talbot, who managed to get a frustrated Mary on his arm, and Chief Crawley before they disappeared into a back hallway. Bricker led them to a storage room and flicked on the lights to show them a collection of art in large frames or still packed into tight crates. John walked among them as Anna stayed at Bricker's side.

"And the other part of it?"

"I thought he didn't want anyone-"

"We're not product testing this evening." John paused, knocking on a frame and then tugging the loose piece off to catch a falling bag of white powder. "Just making sure it's here. Product testing is for bigger and badder people than ourselves."

"The kind of people with knives if it's not what it promises to be." Anna made a show of staring off into the distance. "I heard they're artists themselves. Studiers of the human form for… different reasons."

Bricker played with his tie, fingers shaking as John made of show of replacing the bag of white powder into the hollow frame and knocked it into place. "They've no reason to worry. We're all professionals here."

"Absolutely." John tucked the bag into his pocket and pressed a button on his phone. "And since we're satisfied I 'd suggest we all rejoin the party."

Bricker all but abandoned them in the hallway as John held Anna back. He pulled out the baggie and nodded at her. "Do you have the wire?"

She reached into her bodice and pulled it out, placing it in his hands with the bag. "Though you may want to edit the audio yourself. I don't think they want all the details of our evening."

"It wasn't on until we entered." John shuffled, face heating under her grin. "What?"

"Did you…" She stopped, frowning back toward the gallery. "Do you hear that?"

They reentered the hall and John closed his eyes as Anna's hand flew over her mouth. Chief Crawley's fist impacted Bricker's face again and John opened his eyes to try and fit the image to the sounds. Talbot and Mary hurried over the floor, trying to pull him off the man bleeding and dazed on the floor as John and Anna stayed to the side.

Someone else helped Bricker to stand, even offering him a handkerchief while the rest of the guests froze in shock, horror, and interest. Bricker wiped his mouth and then motioned for security. "Please remove this man from the premises."

"I can remove myself." Chief Crawley tore from Talbot and Mary's grip, pointing at Bricker. "You need to watch your hands, sir. They don't belong on other men's wives."

"So that's what he and Carlisle have in common." Anna breathed and John turned to her. "What? There has to be something more than base greed to unite people like that."

"Base greed'll do." John rubbed his forehead, "We need to contain this situation and get the sting arranged for tomorrow."

"And I need sleep before I deal with some rather unpleasant business."

John paused, allowing the general buzz of the room to overtake them again. "What business?"

"The drinks." Anna smiled, "Don't assume everything in my life revolves around the horrible components of it that brought us together. I do have other calls on my time."

"I didn't mean to-"

"Anna?" Both looked up as Talbot and Mary wandered over to them. "Anna Schmidt?"

"That's my name on some occasions." She smiled at Mary, "I'm sorry, I forget where we know each other from."

"Mary Crawley, from University." Mary put a hand to her chest, the other still holding her drink. "It's been forever. I haven't seen you since you took that study abroad to Russia."

"Well, all I can say about it was Russia's both as cold and colder than you imagine." Anna turned to Talbot, "And you're looking very fetching sir but I shouldn't ever doubt the skill of Mary Crawley in finding herself a rather gorgeous man to stand at her arm and look pretty."

"I'm good for little else." He shook her hand. "Mary's told me nothing about you so we're on the same page when I say my name's Henry Talbot."

"Good to meet you." Anna put a hand on John's arm. "And this is my date, Johannes Bernhard."

"I think we've met." Talbot extended a hand and John passed over the bag of powder and the wire to him. "Must've given you a speeding ticket."

"That wouldn't be possible since my car doesn't make it out of fourth gear." John shrugged, "But times are tough on all of us."

"Too bad we're not in the art business." Talbot motioned about them. "This kind of thing must get you a pretty penny."

"It's everything I think people hope it will be." John reached for Anna's hand. "Unfortunately we've got to be away. Early mornings for both of us and the excitement of this evening's worn us down."

"Then please, don't let us hold you up." Talbot and Mary stepped aside, allowing Anna and John to exit the party.

"Shortest art show I've ever been to." Anna sighed, switching the direction of her wrap to hold it about herself. "Which is a shame since I do like art."

"What kind of art?"

"Nudes." Anna tried to hold a straight face but laughed at John's reaction. "I'm sorry, I couldn't let it pass me by."

"I might've regretted if you had." John waited for his car. "But, in all seriousness, what kind of art?"

"I do, in seriousness, appreciate nudes."

"Because of the naked women?"

"More because there was enough trust between two people or a group of people, that someone didn't feel odd losing all their clothes and standing starkers in front of them." Anna shrugged, "Not sure I've got that kind of ease with myself."

"Any others?"

"I like sculpture."

"Really?"

"Really."

"What about it?" John took his keys from the valet and held Anna's door open."

"What's not to love about people taking inanimate objects or piles of something with no visible character and making it live?" She buckled herself into place. "You can't argue with that kind of skill."

"I guess not."

They drove away from the building and Anna spoke again, "What was that all about in there?"

"With Mary and Henry?"

"Yes." Anna motioned back toward the building. "Why did they approach us at all?"

"Because Henry's the one arranging the sting. I can't have any part of it."

"Why not?"

"Because if I do then words gets back to Green that you, by association with me, had a hand in it. Besides," John shrugged, "Henry deserves the win he'll get when he cracks Bricker like an egg."

"Part of me hopes Mary gets Carlisle. Henry's not tough enough for that beanpole."

"Don't sell Henry short."

"And don't underestimate Carlisle." The seriousness in Anna's tone stopped John. "He's a desperate man in a desperate position and any animal, when cornered, tends to be its most vicious self."

"Much of a hunter?"

"I don't believe in killing anything for sport." Anna shook her head, "I've just grown very used to people and the ways that people think. He's looking for an out and once Bricker rolls on him faster than a dog to vomit he'll have nowhere to run."

"And then what?"

"That's up to you, Mr. Bates. I've got to stay clear of it as long as possible." Anna closed her eyes, "I'm not made for these kinds of games."

"You're playing it just fine right now."

"We're walking the raggedy edge, John." Anna opened her eyes but did not look at him, keeping her focus straight ahead. "And we're getting in far too deep for our own good."

John drove them to Anna's flat and escorted her upstairs. When they stopped outside the door she pulled out her keys but pulled her fingers across them instead of opening the door. He stepped closer and placed his hand on her chin to turn her face toward his so their lips could meet.

The height of her heels kept John from having to bend over too low but after a moment he broke the kiss. "I should go. You've got business in the morning and I-"

"Stay." Anna's fingers tangled in his, her eyes searching his face. "Please stay."

"I thought you said we're in too deep for our own good?"

"We are but…" Anna swallowed, "I don't want to be alone here. Not right now."

"Now?" John's brow furrowed. "What makes this different?"

"Seeing Mary, meeting her like it would've been any other moment and realizing that…" Anna wiped at her eyes, "I can't meet people like that. I'm not that person who can just meet old friends places or run into people from Uni. My life's broken because someone stole it from me a long time ago."

She let out a breath, dropping her gaze to the floor, "I don't want to feel alone anymore."

John took back her mouth and kissed her. Somehow Anna managed to get them through her door and then lock it behind them but John did not care. He only cared about riding himself of his suit jacket and shoes. Or removing Anna's wrap to let it fall on the stools of her island like ribbon from a Christmas gift. Or leaving his tie draped on another chair like breadcrumbs pointing someone toward her room.

The room where he removed her clothes like touching her with too much force would blow her away. The room where he dropped his own clothes with no more thought than the need to be free of their suffocating weight. The room where John laid Anna on her bed and leaned over her.

His touches could not be more gentle. Each pass of his fingers was the whisper of a butterfly's wings against her skin or hair or even the millimeter of air he put between them. The progress of his lips as he left her sighing and gasping in alternating motions while tracing the barest of indentations from her bra or her dress or her knickers. And when he took all the care and devotion he could manage to adore her breasts and then her core, she cried out and fell over the edge.

But her hands, reaching for him, did nothing to deter him. His movements took on a determinedly rough tilt as he dragged her to the edge of the bed and licked her open to him. Hands shifted and grabbed at his head, guiding and pulling until he seemed to obey, just to leave her wrecked and raging against him with her next fall off the edge.

An edge that left Anna hauling air into her lungs faster than they could fill. John turned her on her hands and knees, kissing every inch of her exposed back as his hands held and kneaded into the flesh of her ass. Nips of his teeth near her shoulders and neck syncopated with pinches at her exposed skin that whitened Anna's knuckles in her sheets. Sheets she almost tore from the bed when John drove into her.

For a brief moment John wondered about the sculpture more skilled hands than his own could make of Anna when she arched her back to take him as deeply as possible. Or the painting someone could do of the way her hair hung about her face and moved when she threw herself back toward him to set the pace for herself. Or even how his mind could comprehend the grandeur of his view with her ass cradled between his hips and her body taking him as deeply as he could go.

Drawing to the edge, John let his hands slide over her slickening sides, teasing her breasts before easing the ache at her nerves. He touched over there in time with his continued rutting into her and Anna let out a string of what sounded like his name before almost collapsing to the bed. He caught her, helping her lay on her side and arranging her so he could fit himself behind her.

The obvious press of his erection to her ass had Anna keening as she pressed herself against him. Her leg, almost boneless, tried to move over his but John put his hand to her thigh and adjusted them so he could sink back into her. A moment passed like eternity as he waited for her trembling muscles to allow him to seat as deeply as he needed to go. But once it did, John thrust steadily until he finished to the chorus of Anna's body releasing a final time.

They lay together, wrapped as closely as they could get, and John did not move until he heard the steady breathing of Anna finally asleep.


	14. Inconvenient Wife, Inconvenient Life

John rubbed his eyes and blinked at his computer screen again before pushing away from it. "I'm not getting anywhere with this."

"Is that because you made the monumental error of allowing your CI to answer you phone and invite herself to dinner with your mother?"

"That's none of your business."

"Who said it was my business?"

"You're making a comment about it."

"Be glad that comment wasn't made to the Chief or you'd be in real trouble."

John glared at Talbot, "I don't need help from you."

"Obviously all evidence to the contrary."

"I'll get advice from you when you tell me how you managed to convince Mary to go to that art show with you."

"Her father wanted her there to help sell it because he didn't believe a single man would go see an expensive gallery he couldn't buy."

"That's sexist."

"He's a man out of time."

John leaned over the desk, "The same man out of time that punched someone in the middle of the gallery floor?"

"That would be the one." Talbot cringed, "That was awkward. Even being in the same room with him I felt this overwhelming sense of second-hand embarrassment."

"I wish he'd felt a little more embarrassed, His poor wife looked beside herself." John turned over his shoulder and then jerked his head toward the office, "What happened? Bricker was away from us for no more than a minute."

"I only know half that story but the other half's being told to our very irate Super in there." Talbot pointed toward the closed door of Chief Crawley's office, where the muted shouts and irritation of an older woman brandishing a cane echoed about the very quiet outer room. "I just know what I saw, which was unfortunately only the final act of that tableau."

"I think you misunderstood the definition of a tableau." John shook his head, "What about the bust?"

"They got Bricker and a nice collection of Russians with their own collections of knives this morning."

"And the baggie I handed you?"

"All the other bags we found matched it and the narcotics division had a field day tracing all of the lovely, poisonous powder to its Afghani sources."

John closed his eyes, "Let me guess, by way of Turkey?"

"Yes. Mr. Pamuk's actually been surprisingly forthcoming with his local authorities as to the where, when, and how of it all."

"It's all about what keeps you out of prison I guess."

"Until it turns on him. The Fraud Squad's had their own little early Christmas in terms of what they found on Bricker's hard drives." Talbot tapped his folder. "I'm going to talk to him now if you want to sit in the room."

"I'll sit behind the glass. Give you cues." John stood, grabbing his jacket.

Talbot glowered at him, "This isn't my first go-round."

"I know, but no one's perfect." John pushed him toward the room. "It's mostly so Bricker doesn't know I'm involved. Can't have him ratting me out to whomever else might get their ears in here that I'm actually a cop."

"Don't know how he didn't smell it on you before." Talbot wiggled his fingers in the air, drawing them up and down John's form. "You reek of law enforcement and noble morals."

"Thanks very much."

"Never go undercover John." Talbot led them to the interrogation rooms and John slipped into the smaller room behind the glass.

He watched Talbot take something from his pocket, pressing it into his ear and the little box on the tiny table in front of the glass blinked blue. John grabbed the other earpiece there and put it in his own ear, pressing for the microphone and waiting as Talbot sat at the table. Bricker shifted in his seat as Talbot hit the button on the recording device on the table and set the folder between them.

"This is Henry Talbot commencing interview one with Simon Bricker. He's arrested for possession with intent to distribute narcotics and other banned substances. Other pending charges include fraud, smuggling, and possible forgeries to be handled and administered by other departments as more evidence comes to light. Let the record show that Mr. Bricker has waved his right to counsel at this time."

Talbot interlaced his fingers and John looked up to get the view of him from one of the overhead cameras. "So, Mr. Bricker, do you speak Russian?"

"What?"

"Russian, the language, do you speak it?" Talbot shrugged, pulling a pen and pad from his pocket. "I assumed you did since your friends were all Russians and they're insisting on a translator. That means either they're lying about their ability to speak English or you're proficient in Russian."

"I don't speak Russian."

"You see," Talbot stretched back, pulling a face. "As much as I want to believe you in principle, if I immediately assume they're lying then that puts me in a rough position because then I'm seen as a racist or anti-immigration and all the politics of that are very undesirable for one in my position."

"They're lying to you. They spoke English to me."

"Says you." Talbot shrugged, putting his hands behind his head. "They're saying you lured them there for a deal and then sprung us on you like a sting operation."

"I don't have any idea what they were doing there." Bricker twitched and John tried to cover his snort so Talbot would not react on his side of the glass. "They… jumped me."

"You didn't look very abused." Talbot inspected Bricker, "Just as a surface look, you're in pretty okay shape so…"

Bricker pulled at his shirt cuffs, the jacket on his lap shifting as he changed legs to cross them. "They surprised me in the back and I couldn't-"

"See, here's what I don't understand." Talbot dropped his arms, tapping the table with his fingers. "Your back rooms, where they found you and your Russian friends, had a basic lock but also a key code padlock. Neither was broken, which means either you left the door to your very expensive gallery open, or you opened it for them."

"They cornered me-"

"Where?" Talbot flipped the folder open and showed Bricker the photographs of the building. "There's no back alley or anything so you can't use that as an excuse and since the backdoor opens right onto the lot that requires keycard access to park, they couldn't have been there without permission."

"I… They were…"

Talbot smiled, "I'm tempted to leave you in here to stew for awhile longer, just to see what kind of story you'd cook up for the next round of questions I'll have for you," He leaned forward, lowering his voice, "Spoiler alert, they'll be the exact same questions but I'll ask them in a different way."

"I don't think-"

"That's the thing," Talbot wagged his finger at Bricker, "You definitely didn't think because, if you had, you wouldn't be in this room right now."

They were silent a moment and Talbot closed the folder. "I guess, if you're going to risk your silence, then it's up to me to just wait you out. I've had more practice than you and I can guarantee you'll not last as long as me."

"I'm…"

Talbot laughed, "Do you know how I know? Because you own an expensive gallery, you wear expensive suits, and you were trying to sell drugs out of forged paintings. You're a man who had the gall to solicit and touch another man's wife, in public, and then act offended when he defended her. The kind of guy you are, they can't bear to stay silent. You're either convinced of your own brilliance and want to tell everyone about it or you're certain you can wait it out because you've got a fancy degree from somewhere I could never afford to go."

He leaned over the table and Bricker twitched backward, "Either way, people like you crack. You're not made for prison and I can't imagine you'll get anything good out of your soap on a rope. You'll be someone one's bitch in half a day and then farmed out for cigarettes or favors. And you won't be able to fight back because you're not that kind of man. You're spineless and scared shitless and neither of those are good signs where you'll go when they string you up with the rest of those hardened Russians who'll abuse you in prison faster than you can learn to say 'Neyt'."

Bricker frowned, "What's that mean?"

"Exactly what I thought." Talbot tapped the edge of the folder on the table, "I hope you enjoy prison, Mr. Bricker. I don't suspect you'll last longer there than Mr. Pamuk did."

"Kemal…" Bricker shivered and Talbot paused, hand on the door handle. "He's…"

"You know," Talbot snapped his fingers, "When someone uses the first name, it usually denotes familiarity. I get the feeling you're not on first name terms with those Russians."

"I don't know them." Bricker shuffled in his seat, "I told you that already."

"Then here's what I think." Talbot pointed, "They're new."

"New?" Bricker shook his head, "They're strangers. We're nothing to one another. I don't know them."

"Because you're used to dealing with the Turkish." Talbot cleared his throat, "Nasil hissediyorsun."

"Not great at all." Bricker responded and then stopped as Talbot smiled.

"When Mr. Pamuk was no longer your supplier it became the Russians. They took over where Mr. Pamuk left off when he, sadly, departed the world. Now you're playing catch up with a new boss and trying to understand how you can get the same kind of deal you had but everything's changed." Talbot sat back down, "Hasn't it?"

Bricker buried his head in his hands. "He said it wouldn't be like this. It'd be business as usual and we'd get our cut, same as we always do. He said, with her gone, it'd be easier and the new bosses would be the same as the old but just in a different language."

"I'm sorry," Talbot spread his fingers and compressed the air over the folder, "Who's the 'she' you mentioned? Everyone else has been a 'he'. Who's the 'she'?"

"She worked for Richard."

"Richard?" Talbot shifted in his chair, raising an eyebrow. "You have a last name for him or do I have to look up every dick from here to eternity because that'll take awhile."

"Richard Carlisle. He's the one who brought me in on it all."

"Carlisle, the newspaper man?" Talbot laughed, crossing his arms over his chest, "What's a newspaper man got to do with smuggling?"

"He met Kemal while doing a piece in Ankara. They got to talking and Kemal suggested the idea to him. He brought me in because it was the best way to explain it all moving around the world and get it all back here with little interest from anyone who'd stop us." Bricker sobbed to himself, "It paid for everything and she was going to ruin it all."

"There you go with the 'she' again." Talbot shook his head, "Do I need to cue everything for you to actually give me any kind of information on your own?"

"I don't know her name. She was the Irish bitch who worked for Richard. I didn't have anything to do with her and I only met her once."

"Could you give me a description of the Irish woman who worked for Carlisle?"

"Brunette, coldest blues eyes I'd ever seen, and this nasty streak. Reminded me of a viper."

John ground his teeth and tapped the microphone. "It's Vera, Henry."

Talbot put a hand behind his ear, so Bricker could not see, and put a thumb up before covering it as a scratch to his head. "What was she going to do to your business, this Irish viper?"

"Ruin it all because Richard was stupid enough to sleep with her." Bricker leaned over the table, "She was married to a DI you know. And there Richard was, cocking it all up so he could get his cock in her a few times a week on his desk at work."

Talbot massaged the bridge of his nose, "Is there anything useful under all your office gossip?"

"She found some of Richard's loose papers and threatened to tell the police about our business. Richard tried to call her off but her life was going under and he wasn't going to help her. So he told his new Russian friend that she might get in the way and he said…" Bricker swallowed, "He said he'd 'arrange' it. Next thing I know Richard's on his toes because she's dead in an inexplicably lucky lorry accident."

"Sounds like a well-organized operation your new Russian friend is running." Talbot fiddled with his pen, "Does he have an equally Russian name?"

"I've only ever met his cronies."

"Which ones?" Bricker ducked his head and Talbot smiled, "Should I just guess that they're the same cronies in the next room that you said you didn't know?"

Bricker ducked his head, "I think I want a lawyer now."

"I'll get right on that." Talbot gathered his things, moving out of the interrogation room. John met him in the corridor and Talbot bit the inside of his cheek and nodded toward the room. "He's a bloody wanker."

"It doesn't mean he's wrong." John removed his earpiece and grabbed for Talbot's. "You'll get Carlisle on Bricker's testimony. It's enough to bring him in, anyway."

"John-"

"No," John shook his head, tilting the earpieces between his hands. "I'll… You need to handle Carlisle. If this leads back to Vera then I can't go anything with it. The Super's jumping all over Chief Crawley for punching that man out. If I get in the same room as Carlisle I'm going to get her cane beating me over the head and shoulders."

"Alright." Talbot shoved his hands into his pockets, holding the folder and pad between his arm and his body as he scuffed his shoe at the floor. "I'll get the paperwork for him and then I'll bring him in and start the questioning."

"Let me know if there's anything small I can rustle up while you're getting the collars on this one." John went to drop the earpieces in the room and returned to Talbot's side. "What are you going to do about him?"

"Get him the lawyer he wants and then take them both to task with everything we've got that Bricker's already given us."

"Because he's an ass." John suggested and Talbot snorted.

"He's a great many things and that's one of them." Talbot jerked his thumb back toward the interrogation room. "I'll go and deal with him."

"I'll be back later then." John walked back to his deck, grabbing his things and heading to the road.

Letting out a breath he ran a hand through his hair. The noise in his ears rang until everything else just muffled and hollowed out as John watched the street in front of him move as if nothing were wrong. Run past the very spot where his wife died. Died because…

John ground his palms into his eyes and groaned past the pain of it to force himself to the Tube station. He managed the two transfers that brought him out by Anna's pub and walked inside. Gwen waved at him from the bar and held her rag a moment as he rested his hands on the edge.

"Looking for the boss lady?"

"Is she around?"

"She's always around." Gwen pointed up, "She's upstairs. Doing stuff in her office that makes this place run and keeps us all floating."

"Hey," John paused, "That guy I followed the first week or so I was here, whatever happened to that guy?"

"Married his nurse girlfriend, far as I know." Gwen shrugged, "She got him out right after you two marked him at those shipping containers."

"Should you be telling me this?"

"Technically?" Gwen shifted her weight from one foot to the next. "Since you're working for the boss lady there's nothing to say that she won't tell you herself."

"You're sure about that?"

"No. Then again, I don't care to know anything else but exactly what I do here and now." Gwen went back to cleaning the bar. "I have a very simple life and a very simple existence as long as I know what's going on in this pub and not much else."

"Wish I stayed that simple." John muttered and went up the stairs to rap his knuckles on Anna's office door.

"Come in." Anna's voice floated through the door and John turned the knob. She turned her head up to see him, shifting through the papers on her desk. "Hello. I didn't expect you here."

"Afraid they'll see me coming here?"

"If you're coming here then it only helps the image I gave them about how we get on." Anna signed another paper and played with her pen between her fingers. "But I've got a feeling you're not here to help protect the image I gave Green."

John craned his head about, "Do you have the same things working here you do at your flat?"

"I have them in as many places as I want to have conversations or sex." Anna grinned at John's cough. "What's brought you here John?"

"Bricker told us that Carlisle got Vera killed to protect their business." John took the chair across from Anna, interlacing his fingers and bringing them apart again as he struggled to handle the information. "He said that the Russians worked it out to get Carlisle and Bricker to continue handling the business end that Pamuk left."

"What would your Chief Crawley say if he knew you were telling me this right now?" Anna's face had no smile and no glee to it. "You don't care about their little drug trafficking business. It's not what bothers you."

"We weren't… We weren't in a good place and…"

"And it still hurts." Anna let her pen drop, leaning back in her chair. "It hurts that you watched your wife die in front of you, in what you thought was an accident, and then you learn it was the hit you had the inkling it might be… all because someone wanted to keep making money off someone else's struggles."

John nodded, tightening his fingers. "It… It doesn't make sense and yet it does at the same time. It's all so twisted and crazy."

"And you're telling me instead of a therapist or a friend because…?"

"Because you're the only person who understands." John sighed, going to stand. "I'm sorry to bother you at work and-"

Anna came around the edge of the desk and put her hand on his arm. "No."

"No?"

"No, you're not bothering me and if I'm the person you need to tell then… It's the least I can do since I'm the reason some bastards broke your arm and cracked your collarbone." Anna sat on the edge of the desk in front of him, her hand still on his arm. "What else can I do?"

"I don't even know." John covered her hand with his, "What are we?"

"Mixed up in something shitty." Anna smiled at him, taking his hand to interlace their fingers. "And you got dragged into this because your boss thought it'd be an easy collar for you."

"Is the question my skills or how easy it was supposed to be?"

"The truth is that it's bigger than you thought and far bigger than your boss or his boss or even her boss imagined." Anna spread her arms, "It's all bigger than we thought it would be but here we are."

"Here we are." John waited, sliding his fingers over hers. "What do you want to do?"

"You, in as many ways as possible." Anna smiled at him. "As often as possible, if I can tack that on to the end of the previous statement."

"You can tack on," John stood, removing his jacket to drop over the back of the chair behind him as he crowded Anna toward her desk. "Whatever you like if you're serious about wanting to do me in as many ways as possible."

"I was serious about it." Anna tilted her head up, her business trousers sliding along the desk as John's hands ruffled and wrinkled her blouse.

"Then," He turned her slowly around, placing her hands on the desk, "What are the chances I get to take you up on that offer?"

"High, if you work quickly and make sure we're not bothering the people about to take lunch downstairs. I'm not sure they'd appreciate it if we made them think I run a whorehouse in the my pub."

"Well, it's bad form to make them jealous anyway." John untucked her blouse to run his fingers over her stomach and lower back. "I don't intend to keep you occupied for too much longer than lunch time."

"Because we're professionals and we've got to get back to our lives." Anna chuckled and it turned to a moan as John kissed over her neck and popped the button on her trousers before he drew the zipper down to run his fingers over her thong.

"Exactly. We're professionals." John teased her trousers lower and tickled over her skin with his fingers until he managed to get the trousers to her knees. "I'd hate to make you late for anything important."

"Like that dinner on Sunday?" Anna tried to gain the upper hand again but gripped the desk harder when John dragged his fingers over her folds through her knickers.

"You think there's something funny about it?" John growled against her shoulder and tightened her knickers against her skin before dragging them lower to leaver her exposed. "If we'd have more time I'd use my tongue on you but, unfortunately, we don't have that time."

"Then what'll you do instead?"

"This." He worked his fingers over her until Anna groaned and cried out.

As she bent over the desk, legs quivering slightly, John opened his trousers and brought himself right to the edge. She shifted to allow him to get closer but John just ran himself over her. "Would you like to go another round Anna?"

"I'd hope you're not just going to tease me." She dug into the desk with her fingers as John dragged over her. "Because I will consider serious action in that case."

"Then I'd best get serious." He held onto her hips, sweat beading on her forehead where he kissed it to match the trickle going down his back, and stretched her as slowly as he could possibly manage.

Her head hung over her arms, her hips thrusting back to try and force him deeper or faster or harder but he did not respond to her encouragement. Instead he kept his pace, holding her carefully, and met each snap of their hips with a kiss to her skin. Her hand dragged back, digging into his hair to bring his lips to hers. They held tightly, trying to silence themselves with the other, but all they could manage was to grate the desk against the floor.

John's fingers took another drag over her nerves, brought her to the edge with each thrust, and pressed each heightening cry with another kiss. Anna fell to her climax again and John followed her a moment later. They shunted and trembled together until they could fill their lungs.

He slipped back, grabbing a few tissues to clean them up before pulling her knickers and trousers back into place. When he tried to button her up, Anna's hands stopped him. She kissed his frown and did them up herself.

"You've got to get back and I've got work I need to do as well." She turned in his grasp, tucking her blouse back into place and trying to freshen up her appearance. "I really hope no one comes into this office before I can air it out."

"Don't want anyone to know you had a quickie at lunch?"

"I run a business." Anna pushed at him, grinning. "And it's not prostitution."

"I know what it is." John arranged himself, "Henry'll now what happened."

"We all need those sorts of people." Anna turned back around her desk, "And John, if you need someone to talk to then just let me know."

John reached across the desk, taking her hand to kiss it. "Thank you."

"I hope you know that having sex won't be the cure to all your problems."

"It's helped this one, for the moment." John sighed, "But I know. I'm just… I need someone to tell."

"I'm honored to be that person." Ann snapped her fingers and pointed toward the door. "You'd best get going before someone comes to chase you down and make sure you didn't jump off a bridge."

"Henry'd call first." John shrugged, "And… you're serious, about Sunday dinner?"

"I told your mother and she doesn't seem the kind of person I should lie to." Anna held his gaze, "Do you want to try and explain to her on Sunday why I didn't come?"

"I'd rather dig my own grave and then shoot myself." John winked at her, going to the door. "I'll pick you up at yours at five."

"I'll be waiting." Anna smiled, "Now go. You've got the world to save."


	15. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

John pulled at his tie again and Anna reached around him to straighten it as the car settled in place. "You look lovely."

"It's just… It's been a long time since I had someone to introduce to my mother. Or had dinner with mother when someone else is there. I'm a bit nervous about how this all goes."

"Very easily if you don't confess to her that I'm not really your girlfriend." Anna shrugged, "I know how to act so everyone can believe it's real."

John put his hand on hers as her other reached for the door, stopping her. "You're the realist girlfriend I've had in a long time. I hope you know that."

Anna kissed his fingers, "I do now." She took a deep breath, nodding toward the house, "And why be nervous? Didn't you bring your wife here?"

"My mother and my wife hated each other." John shuddered, "Bringing her here would kill one or both of them. I only risked it once and I regretted every minute of it."

"My bets on your mother."

"You never saw Vera with half a bottle in her and a head full of steam." John stroked his thumb over the wheel in front of him and started when Anna's settled on his, pulling her almost over the center console.

"That's all over." She pushed herself to kiss him quickly and sat back. "Come one, before she thinks we're getting dessert before dinner."

"I would rather die than have that happen." John shuddered, "I'd never be able to look her in the eye again."

"Then let's get inside." Anna opened her door and John hurried to follow her to the front door. She rang the bell before he got there and smiled at him as he joined her, pulling again at his tie. "Please tell me why you wore a tie to your mother's for dinner?"

"It's an event and you always dress up for an event."

"Do you?" Anna went to say something else but the door opened and a woman about her height with iron gray hair streaked white faced them.

"You do. Events are marked by time and effort put into their preparation." She eyed John and Anna up and down, "Unless I'm too old to know what I'm talking about and too wrong in my crotchety thoughts."

"Well there's nothing wrong with your hearing." John bent, kissing her cheek. "Evening mother."

"Evening to you Johnny. It's been too long since you slunk over my doorstep and I'd like to know why." She narrowed her eyes, pretending to lower her voice. "Is it so you get more time with this lovely lady?"

Anna covered her mouth as she snorted her laugh there and John shuffled. "It's just been busy at work."

"Because if you're taking the time to really pay her the attention all women deserve than I forgive you. Especially if you're keeping in mind that she deserves to come too."

"Mother!" Anna's laugh broke from her mouth and she hurried to try and contain herself. "She's a guest."

"And I couldn't be happier." Anna shook Mrs. Bates's hand. "It's an honor to meet you, truly, and I do hope you'll tell me more of this amazingly sage advice."

"I'm chock full of it dear." She led Anna inside, leaving John to shut the door after them. "Did you know, he made his first move on a girl when he was ten? Wasn't any good at the flirting part but his eyes usually get them. Can't help themselves when they're lost looking in those Bates eyes."

"I'm guessing that's how you happened to fall for his father?"

"They didn't hurt. It also didn't hurt that he had a very lovely penis and knew exactly what to do with it when he put it where it belonged."

John covered his ears with both hands, "I'm leaving if you say another word."

"The door's there." His mother pointed, looking at Anna. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Honestly?" Anna smirked at John, "I think he's inherited more than his eyes from his father."

"Good. I worried about puberty, when men get all fumbled and gangly. Like giraffes with their knobby knees and awkward bodies."

"I can assure you, he grew right into whatever it was that might've been awkward then." Anna took the seat Mrs. Bates offered and John sat on the other side of the table. "But I'm more curious about young John. He doesn't talk about himself growing up."

"He wanted to play for Manchester United. Everything I bought him had to be red or he'd pitch a fit and howl like I'd ended the life of his dog."

"What happened to his footballing dreams?" Anna frowned as John hurried to his feet, going into the kitchen to help his mother with the dishes.

"Bad accident when he was fifteen. Driving his car too late at night-"

"It was barely gone one in the morning." John insisted, setting the largest dish in the middle of the table.

"What were you doing out so late?"

"My job at the shop." John shrugged, listening for the rest of the conversation as he went back into the kitchen.

"He got hit by a drunk driver. Crushed his leg. The surgeries got him back everything but his chances to play for England and the physical therapy means he's only got a limp occasionally."

"It doesn't affect anything." Anna went to get out of her chair. "Do you need any help?"

"No," Mrs. Bates set the last dish down. "I've got John all good and trained. He knows what to do when he's here and you're right, he's never let it affect him. He's very good at pushing stubbornly through anything to get the result he wants."

"Mother," John went to say something and his mother raised her hands.

"Fine, we won't talk about her since, as they say, you speak the name of the devil and she appears."

"It's more that we don't speak ill of the dead." John tried to clarify but his mother only snorted.

"Did you bury her with one of those spiked collars to take her head off if she rises like the vampire I was always sure she was?"

"No." John shook his head, "I didn't desecrate my deceased wife's body."

"Because she was a vampire, John. Sucking the life out of you and everyone who knew her. The unfaithful little trollop with her foul tongue and-"

"Mrs. Bates," Anna pointed to the food, "Do you mind if I ask what we're having?"

"Of course not." She shook herself, "Where are my manners?"

John sighed, nodding to Anna, and set himself to dishing out the contents of the dishes in front of them. The evening continued to the sitting room, with John washing up to the sounds of his mother showing Anna every awkward and pubescent photograph she could scrounge up. His fingers scraped a burnt patch on the pan in his hands and he went for the sponge when someone handed it to him.

He turned, smiling at Anna. "Thank you."

"Not a problem." She rested against the counter, her arms folding over her chest as she looked toward the door and sighed. "She's lovely, your mother."

"She's my biggest fan and my harshest critic."

"Shouldn't all parents be that?" Anna let her gaze drop to the floor a moment, the sleeveless black dress billowing at her knees as she shifted. "That's what you hope, right?"

"I could do with her not giving me commentary on her sex life or seeking a commentary on mine."

"It was harmless."

"If I met your parents and they pressed the same questions would you react the same way?" John faced her but Anna only bit her lip and stared toward the door. "Did I say something wrong?"

"My parents passed, a long time ago." Anna took a breath, coughing as if trying to get something out of her throat. "I haven't… uh, I haven't thought about them in a long time."

"I'm sorry if I-" John reached a slightly soapy hand toward her but Anna shook her head.

"It's fine. I just… I just hadn't thought about it in awhile." She wiped at her eyes, "I'm going to see more embarrassing photos of you I can use to spam Talbot's email."

John gave a little laugh, finishing the dishes.

When he finally extracted Anna from his mother's hold it was on the agreement Anna would come back to cook with her later in the week. He kissed his mother's cheek and almost pulled away before she grabbed him, holding him close to whisper in his ear.

"If you can, keep this one John. She's better than anything you'll find anywhere else. I promise you that."

He nodded, kissing his mother's forehead, and escorted Anna to the car. She frowned, looking back at his mother as he opened the door for her, and lowered her voice. "What did she say?"

"She said to make sure to drive safe and remember to use a condom."

"Ha, ha." Anna ducked into the car and John shut the door, walking around to his side as Anna spoke again. "I know that's not what she said."

"Then why ask?"

"Because I want to know what she said." Anna waited.

John started the car, pulling onto the road, "You wouldn't like what she said."

"You don't know that."

"I know this whole evening was a dangerous risk for the both of us." John kept his focus on the road. "We shouldn't have done it."

"Why? Because you're afraid you actually like me?"

"I've already told you I do." John shook his head, "It's… You've met my mother. What if she becomes collateral in all this? Or the fact that I now know something else about your family?"

"So?"

"So?" John faced her at the red light. "It's all fun and games to think you now know I lost my virginity at fifteen or that my father had a big penis or that my mother likes to make fried salmon but her life's now in in danger. We're in danger. This…"

Anna looked out the window, speaking more to it than to John. "Are you afraid of what'll happen to her if this all goes tits up?"

"I worry about that every time I take on a dangerous or intricate case. There's risk to what I do, I know that, but I try to keep all additional risks to a minimum."

"And you're right." Anna put her hands in her lap. "Which is why you're not saying what she told you."

"What does it matter Anna?"

"Because, despite the danger or the façade or the farce we're putting on between the two of us, I actually have the nerve to like you too." John almost rear-ended the car in front of them as Anna nodded. "I know, it must just put you in the shit to have me say that I feel for you but I do."

"Anna-"

"And I know how cocked up this whole thing is and how we're just one slip away from losing all of our fingers and toes after losing every friend we ever had. But, for one night, I had the chance to sit across from a man I liked and listen to his mother tell awkward stories about him like we were actually something." Anna wiped at her eyes, "I'm sorry if I had my hopes too far up for something like that."

They drove in silence, John pulling into a spot outside Anna's flat but locking the doors when she tried to get out. She turned in her seat, scowling at him. "I'm not a child and I don't agree with being detained against my will unless I've ben charged with something."

"She said that, if I could, I should keep you since you're better than anything else I'll ever find." John raised his eyes to meet Anna's slightly opened mouth. "How was I supposed to tell you that?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Because, Anna, you and I both know it's not going to work."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" John struggled to speak a moment. "Because, if we play this out, you'll end up in prison. Even with all the help you're giving us with Carlisle, Bricker, and you gave us with the Turkish, we're still going to have to shut down what you do. Now that goes one of two ways. Either you tell Robert who really gives you orders for your work and then you're in prison for the rest of your life for you safety or you're in prison for the rest of your life when they catch you with those Russians and then have to charge you with espionage, working with a foreign power against the interests of the Kingdom of Great Britain, and probably treason. If you don't get handed over the Russians, who'll kill you the moment you even breath their air, then you'll be in prison for the rest of your life."

"It wouldn't be a long time."

"It doesn't matter how long it is." John smacked his hand against the steering wheel. "The problem is that you won't get away from that. This'll hang over your head for the rest of your life and you'll have nothing but ash in your mouth."

"I know the life I'm living, John."

"I don't want you living that kind of life, Anna." John pointed toward the flat. "I don't want you in a place where they're listening to whatever you say or to the sounds of us having sex to hide the conversations we have. I want…"

He shook his head, "Forget it."

"No," Anna's tone got his attention. "You don't get to do that. You get to tell me all that and then not finish before the end."

"What does it matter?"

"It bloody matters to me." Anna put a hand on his face, forcing him to look at her. "What do you want, John?"

"I want you because I think I'm in love with you, Anna. And I know I'm not supposed to say it because of what we are to one another and because I'm supposed to be a gentleman but I've never claimed to be anything more than what I am and that's how I feel."

Anna held his gaze, his eyes watering slightly, and she spoke so softly he almost did not hear her. "You're a gentleman to me, John Bates, and I've never met someone finer than you."

He leaned over the center console, kissing her with all he had as one of his hands came up to hold her cheek and steady himself at the same time. She pressed toward him, her hands cupping his jaw before slanting her head to take more of his mouth with hers. But with the console in the way there was only so much they could do.

John broke the kiss to push his seat back as far as he could take it and lower it enough to allow Anna the chance to climb over and straddle him. He shifted, to give her as much room as possible, but her knee still impacted the side of the door and the console. But when John cringed at it Anna only shook it off. She bent over him and took his mouth with hers again.

His fingers tried to gain purchase somewhere but he slipped from the material of her dress when she adjusted position and could only grasp at the back of her thighs. John kept his touches feather light there but when the material of her skirt bunched, and his hand moved to gain more ground, he bit off a groan inside her mouth. The kiss broke and John would have sworn before a judge he felt Anna's lips stretched into a smile on the skin of his neck as trembling fingers brushed the fabric of a garter belt.

Even knowing the constrictions of the seat and the car, John still tried to shift and see for himself. But Anna put a hand on his chest, pressing him back to the seat and twisted enough to make sure the car was in park before turning the key. The engine rumbled off and she managed the power windows enough to let the lighter evening breeze into the space. Her hips rotated back and Anna rocked into him as she did so, the glint of light off her teeth and that devious sparkle in her eyes, sending John into another moan that tightened his grip on her thighs. He dug in and used her surprise to bring Anna's mouth back to his.

"Like what you see?" Anna whispered there, taking teasing strokes with her tongue along the inside of her mouth until he nipped at it.

"From the first moment I saw it." One of his hands moved up, following the line of the snap on her garter to the belt and then caressing her almost bare ass enough to pull at the thong there. "Right now I like what I feel better."

For all her teasing, the clutch of her fingers into his shoulders that sent nails digging into his skin through the layer of his shirt combined with her moan as he massaged the skin he found. She ground down on his trousers, her skirt rolling at her waist, and left one hand to hold the back of his neck while the other scratched down his shirt toward his trousers. John raised his hips to meet her motions, trapping her hand between them to force her to rub over herself and him at the same time.

Anna tore away from his mouth, breathing hard into his neck as her back arched and she tried to get closer to him but his fingers curled around her wrist to pull her arm away. She growled at him but John only kissed her palm and set it around his neck before taking his fingers to her clit. The lacy fabric of her barely-there knickers added the friction as he pressed and rubbed against her. Her hips gyrated toward him, following the attentions of his fingers and she cried out when he used his other hand to move her knickers to the side and sink his finger into her.

Her hand hit the roof of his car, the scrape of her nails over the material there adding a counterpoint to the rasp of the lacy where her nerves swelled and sensitized. Anna ground into his hand and John raised himself enough to kiss at her throat. The other hand, formerly using the leverage of his neck, grabbed a fistful of his shirt at the shoulder to drag him closer and continue his drag of sucking, scorching kisses over her skin.

When he added another finger Anna huffed out her versions of his name or other half-formed words and phrases. John tried to follow them but choose to follow the guide of her body instead. It led him to crook his fingers inside her, to drag to the very edge before stretching her wider with another finger, and then to send her other the edge with a final flick against her clit.

The half-strangled sob of her finish let John relax only a second. Her hands were on him in a moment, tugging his mouth to hers with a strong grip around his jaw and then opening his belt and trousers faster than John could manage words. And there were no words possible when her hand wrapped over him. The frantic thrust of his trousers and boxers out of the way sparked memories of his first tryst in a car but the memory ran when Anna slid up his legs to rub her still-covered core against him.

Where he once held the advantage in using the material of her knickers against her, John's knuckles went white digging a hold for himself in the door of his car. She trilled a laugh against the skin of his neck, keeping pressed to him with a gentle rock to her hips, and laid her own line of kisses in a row there. Each one almost burned him but he wanted them all the more for it.

"How the tables turn Mr. Bates. Are you alright?" She whispered, shifting just enough to rub herself along him, agonizing him with the speed and the caress of the lacy fabric. "I could go slower if you want to keep up."

"I'm fine." He grunted, his hands now running up and down her torso, one taking advantage of her raised skirt to grab her ass and try to bring her closer and increase the friction between them.

Anna moaned and lifted herself back enough to try and trap her skirt so she could free herself of her knickers. John reached between her legs and pulled the material to the side. Their eyes met and Anna sank down onto him.

His eyes fluttered closed and his teeth clacked together as his jaw tightened. The tight squeeze of their bodies into the driver's seat was nothing compared to the tight squeeze of her walls around him. He pulsed and thickened inside her to shallowly thrust. Her nails digging into his upper arms brought John's legs up to give him the leverage he needed to drive into her like he wanted.

One of his hands settled at her ass again, guiding her proficient motions so he could sink as deeply inside her as her moans said she wanted, and the other took the chance to finally touch her breasts. Through the material of her dress and her bra there was a significant loss of sensation but given the heat wafting off her and the hitch in her breathing John doubted it really mattered. He met the determined gyration of her hips with a snap of his and then choked on his own response as Anna changed tactics to bounce herself up and down on him, her knees using their limited space to the best advantage.

With a final twist and grind of her hips, Anna sent herself over the edge. Her gasping cry tore at John and he drove as deeply as he could until his body could move no longer. He trembled and stuttered his finish before dropping back to the seat and bringing Anna with him. They both lay together, John vaguely noting the fog of the windows in the dim light of the street lamps, and tried to breathe again.

The stick of sweat sounded as Anna extracted herself and went to crawl back onto her seat. John reached out a hand, catching her arm, and stopped her opening her door again. This time she laughed a little, maneuvering over the console to kiss him.

"I think you've had enough, Mr. Bates."

"Come back to mine." He breathed, drinking in the sight of her above him. "Come back to mine where you don't have to be quiet or worry about bugs or anyone listening in."

"John I can't put your flat in that kind of-"

"Anna," He brushed a loose strand of hair, exertion leaving her formerly expertly done hair a bit more wobbly and wispy now, off her face. "Please come home with me."

She nodded, sitting back in her chair as John raised his. He stretched around her to open the glove box and passed her a few spare napkins. "It's not classy but…"

"And there I was thinking about how Talbot would react if he rode in this seat and realized the gift I'd left you there." Anna grinned to herself and John coughed into his laugh before balling the napkins into a bag.

They drove to his, leaving the car in its spot. John took Anna's hand, twiddling their fingers over and around one another as they walked the front steps and took the lift like two people in love and ready to spend an evening. They giggled and smiled at one another like those who had no cares in the world and reached John's door like so many: free of worries and fears. But when John kissed Anna quickly before opening the door, he broke the spell.

Inside his flat, still sparse as ever but cleaner than before, he led her to the bedroom. There he pressed her to the wall, hand spanning over her thigh, as he bent to kiss her. Anna returned the fervor of the motion and raised her leg to notch over his hip and rub herself against the front of him.

The scrape of her heel against his leg had him hissing a moment later but Anna only flashed her teeth at him and took her time with a series of nips across his jaw to his ear. "Are you ready Mr. Bates?"

"What?" He let his other hand run up and down her side, teasing a brush toward her breasts that had Anna pressing closer to him.

"We're in your room. This is your domain." She tugged his ear between her teeth and let go to look in his eyes. "Why don't you take me as you'd like?"

John seized control of her mouth then, running his tongue along the inside while his fingers hurried to raise her skirt again. It bunched around his hands and he fumbled to find the straps he needed but soon they managed drop Anna's knickers to the floor. She stepped sideways out of them as John lifted her against the wall to grind against her through their clothing. But when she tried to respond to the motion he let her heels thunk against the wood of his floor and turned her to he could ring the back of her neck with kisses.

His fingers found the zipper of the dress and whatever other fabric ran from her breasts to her waist under it. With the dress loosened, he chased the second zipper down with a licks and kisses to her skin as he exposed it. The fabric opened to him and John pushed it down her arms to leave a bite at the rise of her ass. Anna banged her fist on the wall and John chuckled to himself as he retraced his route backward to help her from the dress.

Keeping himself pressed close to her from behind, John whispered in her ear, hands moving around her body to touch at her nerves and her breasts simultaneously. "Do you have a power fantasy, Anna?"

"Why?"

"Because I might." He ran his lips over her shoulders as he teased a finger inside her again, enjoying how she squirmed and arched toward his hands.

"Is this it?"

"No," He growled into her skin, sending two fingers into her with wet, sucking sounds that only increased when she spread her legs to allow him better access. "You actually suggested it."

"Did I?" She huffed and tried to breathe normally but the vibration of her fluttering heart echoed in the kneading massaging John laid at her breasts.

"The one of me, tied to a bed, while you took your time with me dressed, I'd assume, like a dominatrix."

"I forgot my whip." Anna's nails dug into his wall when John added a third finger. "How would I punish cruel behavior?"

"You'll think of something." John ran his thumb over her and tweaked a nipple to send Anna practically shrieking out her finish, her head against the wall.

She slumped into his grip and John turned them just enough to position her near the bed. Her shaking arms held her up and John hurried out of his shirt, sending a few buttons skittering across the floor, and left the rest of his clothes in a heap as he took his place behind her. The expanse of her back took the brunt of his adoring kisses and Anna tried to arch her back to get her ass closer to where he threatened to throb for her again.

But John stayed just out of reach, leaving another bite at the rise of her ass before licking over it to the tune of Anna's groan. He smiled against her skin, hands stroking and teasing with the garter belt before spreading her legs wide enough to allow him to run the line of his length against her. Anna shivered at the motions and John left a final kiss at her neck before sheathing himself inside her.

He paused, loosening the hold of his fingers at her hips in an attempt not to leave bruises, and waited for Anna to move back toward him. Charging into her, listening for anything that might tell him to slow or stop or speed up, John let himself get lost in the sensations of the tight wrap of her from this angle. His hands moved over her, holding and touching and seeking out anything to help her over the edge again. But he did not expect her to put a hand between her legs to stroke over him.

The lightness of her fingers only hardened and firmed with each ragged grunt it brought from him. John tried to find purchase on her, fingers slipping over and under the garter belt or at her breasts, before one hand speared into her hair. Anna arched toward him with the motion and each movement of her fingers incited one from his until they raced one another with their taunts to the edge.

John lost, finishing in a moment of stumbling dignity as his hands tried to help Anna join him. But she managed on her own as her body took the last of his motions and then brought her fingers away from him to finish at her own nerves. Her cry swallowed in his when John went for her mouth.

They broke apart, gingerly maneuvering so as not to fall and ruin the moment with one of them sprawled out of the floor, and John helped Anna remove her heels before she stripped the garter belt. Laying back on the bed, John took a deep breath and turned to see her. Anna's hair spread out around her head and she took her clawed fingers through it to settle the mass of gold to the side.

When she caught him staring, Anna slapped the back of her hand against his chest. "You've every reason to be proud of yourself."

"This isn't pride." He found a stubborn wisp of hair and slid it back from her face. "This is contentment."

"Then I'd probably need to tell you that I lied earlier." John frowned and Ana shrugged. "That was my power fantasy."

"Me taking you bent over my bed?"

"You taking me at all." Anna lifted herself on one arm. "I like someone who knows what they want in the bedroom and goes for it."

"I'll keep that in mind in future." John lifted himself from the bed. "I'm going to manage a shower, if you'd like to join me."

"If there's any salacious intent there, I'll have to pass." Anna flopped back on the bed. "I don't know if I could even hold myself up."

"No salacious intent, this time." John helped her stand. "My shower's small."

"In future then, my shower's nice." Anna followed him to the bathroom, "And your mother has no need to worry."

"About?" John turned the spigot and waited for the water to warm before helping Anna into the shower.

"You're very considerate and you also have a large penis that you know exactly how to use."

"Let's never tell her either of those things… again."


	16. The Point of No Return

John blinked his eyes open, frowning as he tried to comprehend the vision in front of him. Anna, with her ass in the air, bent over to get something from the floor. He tried to lift himself up but his arms spread out from his sides, tied to the headboard. The movement knocked it against the wall and Anna turned, an expression almost like a leer as she licked her lips and zipped the back of a leather bustier into place.

"I must be dreaming because there's no way you prepared for this." John tried again to move and then his mouth ran dry at the sight of Anna coming around the bed, in her heels, garter belt, bustier, and nothing else to stand beside him as she pulled her hair up and out of the way.

"I plan ahead." She adjusted the bustier so it pushed her breasts up and then nodded at his wrists. "Not too tight?"

"Nope." John grinned, "Do we need a safe word?"

"Just say 'Russia' and I'll stop." Anna checked the clock and John shrugged.

"Since you're using the small hours, I think we'll be fine."

"I could want to torture you for hours."

"Then I call in sick." John shifted and tried to move but whatever she used did not shift enough for him to escape. "Did you use my ties or did you plan these ahead with these too?"

"I just used your ties." Anna shrugged, snapping the belt from his trousers. "I promise not to beat you with this."

"Maybe another time?" John suggested as he slid himself up on his rumpled sheets. "I thought you said I wore you out."

"That was hours ago." Anna trailed the belt over his skin and John shivered. "I do hope you're not nervous."

"Nervous isn't the word I'd use for this." He twitched when she trailed the folded belt down his legs, stripping the sheets to the end of the bed with a snap.

"What word would you use John?" Anna continued her slowly trail of the belt over his skin. "I'm sure you've got enough literary background to try and figure out the best word for this."

"You think so?"

"I've seen the shelves of books you've got in your sitting room." Anna brought the leather belt around to follow the line of muscles on his legs and then up his chest. She circled near his growing erection and then dropped it to the ground before setting her knee beside him to straddle his legs. "I assume you've read them since the spines are all cracked."

"You're observant."

"I'm a Russian trained agent, remember?" Anna ran her hands over his legs, working deep into the muscles, and worked her way toward his face. "I know how to do a thing or two."

"I trust you're capable." John hissed when her fingers danced up the length of him and then slipped down to squeeze tightly at the base.

"Then I'm going to tell you one thing," Anna got onto her knees, "Don't make a sound. It'll ruin the illusion."

His jaw clenched and his fingers worked over the ties to dig his fingers into the fabric. The material cut a bit into his wrists as he strained against the ties and Anna only continued her teasing. She bent over to kiss him, her hands gliding over his skin, and broke it when he tried to arch his back and shook her head.

"No, no, no. This isn't how this works."

"How does it-"

"No," She put her finger over his lips. "Silence is golden."

John bit down on his lip when she set her lips and fingers to following the contours of his skin. He struggled to stay still and tried to watch the focus of her eyes as he moaned under her attentions. The way her eyes narrowed when she let her tongue taste him. The way her palms skirted over his skin or dug into the deep tissue when he twitched from sensitivity. The way she kept moving until he could not guess her next move.

She ran her fingers in a circle around his erection and then took his sack in her hand to fondle and caress it until her mouth finally lowered over him. John pulled hard enough at the ties around his wrists to strain the headboard until it creaked. Her laugh vibrated around him and John tried to find somewhere to put his eyes to help him focus enough not to come.

Then he saw it. In the dim light from the window and the eerie glow of the digital clock, he noticed the glint on her legs. When she shifted, resting back toward his legs, the wet slide made all the hairs on his arms stand on end at the rush of sensation. Anna maneuvered and John brought his leg up to try and help her salve the ache that left him shining with the result.

"Please," He finally managed and Anna passed, her teeth scraping over him and letting her lips release with a pop. "Let me."

"Let you what, John?"

"Let you come." Anna's eyebrows rose and John nodded toward her center, "You're dripping over me, Anna. I can help you with that."

"Can you now?" Anna worked her knees on either side of him, crawling along his body to perch just above his chest so she could look down at him. "You seem awfully confident for someone so close yourself."

"I've never failed you before."

"True." Anna situated herself to position just over him, the only view on John's mind the one right in front of him. "Like what you see?"

"Yes."

"Then do something about it." Anna lowered and John set to work.

Without his hands, John's neck and chest worked to get his lips wrapped around her clit and then to drag his tongue along the line of her. The slickness there coated his tongue but he continued, pushing through to coax her to riding his tongue. Her fingers wrapped the top of the headboard and creaked it in time with his attempts to free himself from the ties. Each motion left her crying out until John sucked her into his mouth, tongue wrapping over her delicate nerves.

He licked and drank until Anna slumped back onto his legs, knees bent to help her. She let out a little laugh and then worked herself backward until her face was above his. "You weren't wrong. And since you did such a good job, you get a prize too."

"Please." John raised himself up as much as he could to meet her mouth with his but broke the kiss when she slid over him.

All he could see was her, riding over him as she rocked and writhed and left him shining. Her fingers gripped and raked over his skin to leave John trembling and sobbing at the tight fist of her around him. His climax took him almost by surprise as hers left her slumped over him

He kissed her hair and she turned her face to look at him. "Good morning."

"It'd be a better morning if I could hold you." John flicked his eyes toward the ties and Anna released him, massaging his wrists and hands back to full feeling. "You were fantastic."

"You're not so bad yourself." She stole another kiss, grinning at him. "You taste like me."

"You taste good." John kissed her throat, breathing deeply. "You smell like me."

"I wear it better than you do." Anna glanced at the clock and then lay next to him. "We've still got a few hours."

"Pretty sure I'll need all that time to recover." John shifted to his side to look at her. "I just want you to know, I was serious last night."

"I know." Anna nodded, tracing a wrinkle in the fitted sheet. "And I think I want it almost as much as you."

"Almost is a dangerous word."

"Well," Anna shrugged, "The issues you brought up are why I don't want it as much as you."

"The fact that you're a Russian agent and we've cocked this thing up by sleeping together the first time."

"And then we brought emotions into it." Anna snorted, "Emotions, they ruin you every time."

"Or make you."

"But imagine how much easier it would be if I could shag you senseless and then go back to my life as if nothing happened." Anna grabbed one of his hands, rubbing more life into it. "If I could pretend I don't fear the day Green wants some kind of proof that you're on our side. The day my information from your office doesn't match what he thinks you should know."

"The day he realizes you helped us get Bricker."

"And hopefully he'll never find out that had anything to do with me." Anna sat up, "He thinks Bricker's an idiot and he's not a fan of Carlisle. They're means to an end for him."

"Are you the means to an end, for him?"

Anna shrugged, "I used to worry I was his end game but now… Now I'm convinced I'm just useful. And the moment I'm not…"

They sat in silence, Anna reaching to pull the sheets back up over them. John settled on his back, gazing up at the ceiling long after Anna's steady breathing filled the room. When he did open his eyes again she was gone, a text tapped into his phone.

 _Sorry for not waking you but we didn't have time for how I'd want to._

John snorted and tucked the phone away, pushing himself to the shower.

* * *

He pushed into the office, tightening his tie, and headed toward his desk but Talbot headed him off into a side corridor. John tried to speak but Talbot shook his head, opening a broom cupboard and shutting them in. "He's here."

"Who?"

"Carlisle. He's in Chief Crawley's office giving an earful about police harassment or some such." Talbot took a breath, "Did you talk to him? The other day, when you walked out of here early, did you talk to him?"

"I've only met the man twice and both times they were dinners with Vera involved and she snuck away to a bathroom stall with him." John shook his head, "Whoever's troubling him, it's not me."

"What about your… Russian friend?"

"She's not attached to it." John sucked the inside of his cheek, "Could be Bricker tipping him off."

"I've got it on good authority his lawyer advised him not to breathe another word to us or Carlisle after his debacle last week in interrogation."

"Doesn't mean he listened."

"Had to since he's not been locked up since his lawyer got him released." Talbot blew out for a moment. "Anyone else?"

"Could be his Russian friends."

Talbot scratched the back of his head, "I'd have thought that kind of visit meant he'd crawl to us to talk about the problem, not blame it on us."

"Reverse psychology," John shrugged. "If they intimidate him as the police then he doesn't come to us. Bricker's already tossed a spanner in the works for them so they're trying to outrun whatever's coming for them."

"That takes smarts I've never attached to the Russian mob."

"Maybe we've underestimated them for too long and now it's come back to bite us in the ass." John pointed to the door, "Can I leave now? Much as I like you, as a person, I don't think I want anyone thinking you and I are more than partners."

"And if I were carrying a torch for you, in that way?"

"I'd rather you didn't snog me in the broom cupboard." John grinned at him, opening the door, "Buy me dinner first."

They went back to their desks, John turning in time for a man with a sharply angled face to blow past him without noticing him, and went to sit when Chief Crawley barked for him. Talbot tried to give him a thumbs up but John could only march toward the door and close it behind him as Robert took his seat behind his desk. "Please sit John."

"Alright." John took the edge of the chair, tapping the tips of his fingers against one another. "Any particular reason why you're calling me in here?"

"Did you menace Richard Carlisle?"

"I haven't seen or spoken to the man in over a year."

"So you didn't go and see him?"

"Why would I want to see that man?" John frowned, "I've got nothing to gain if I go and cock up this investigation."

"That explains why he didn't know your face when I pointed you out."

"Tosser."

"Exactly." Robert slumped back in his chair, "What about your CI? Does she have anything interesting?"

"She's convinced that Bricker and Carlisle are the ends of the chain the Turkish used to run and is pretty certain it's now run by the Russians."

"Explains the problems when the management changed." Robert rotated a moment, "I do hope that your cozy exteriors at the gallery opening were just for show and not because you're shagging her."

"Would it compromise the information she's given us if I were?"

"I'm sure you're not so stupid that I actually have to answer that question." Robert ran a finger over his desk before tapping on it. "If you bugger this investigation it won't just be demotion for you, it'll be your badge, your pension, and everything else attached to it until you're barely scraping out of here with your name. You do understand that, yes?"

"It's clear, sir."

"So, I'll ask again, are you sleeping with her?"

John held Robert's gaze. "No, sir. I'm not sleeping with her."

"Good, then get out of my office and find a way I can nail that bastard to the wall and leave him hanging there."

"We'll do what we can sir." John left the office and knocked on Talbot's desk. "What do we have on Carlisle?"

"Not as much as Bricker originally promised us but, like I said, he's tended toward the silent with his lawyer keeping his mouth shut. Why do you ask?"

"Chief Crawley's believes we need to do more to get Carlisle strung up like we're trying to get Bricker." John leaned on the edge of Talbot's desk. "But we've got other problems."

"Such as?"

"The Russians' they're working for." John shook his head, "She says her handler doesn't care one way or the other about Carlisle or Bricker. Finds them tiresome and annoying."

"And?"

John flexed his jaw. "She met my mother."

Talbot choked on his tea, lowering the cup to the desk. "She did what now?"

"Before the gallery party, she answered my phone and it was my mother. Invited herself over to dinner last night."

"I'm going to guess there was a bit where you committed to something more than a friendly nighttime encounter." Talbot shrugged, "So what?"

"So… it's getting personal." John waited but Talbot did not respond. "What would you suggest I do?"

"Break up with her and stop trying to fix her life." Talbot turned to his computer, "All the advice I have for you is to stop trying to fix whatever problem she's got there. You take what you've got and then you leave it be. We go back to our lives and she goes back to hers."

"What if it's more than just personal?"

Talbot rolled his eyes, "I really hope you didn't have the misfortune to tell her you loved her or something."

"It may've… come out."

"Oh shit." Talbot ran a hand through his hair. "John, I thought you balls it up when you made the mistake of still trying to get your relationship with your wife to work but I know you've made a mistake in trying to get anything to stick in terms of this woman."

"You can't always help something like that."

"But you can get yourself out of the hole you're digging." Talbot pointed at him, "Get yourself out of whatever you're doing so you can try and save your own ass. I guarantee you, she's trying to save hers. Take a page from her book."

John went to say something but stopped, a vibration from his phone dragging his attention. "Hold whatever other thoughts you have."

"They're here when you need them."

"Right." John put the phone to his ear. "John Bates."

"Are you free next week?"

"Anna?" John lowered his voice when Talbot raised an eyebrow and mimed drawing his finger over his neck. "What's this about?"

"What we talked about this morning…" Her voice edged and John tightened his fingers around his phone. "He wants a meeting."

"With you?"

"With us." She kept quiet a moment, "Could you make it?"

"I'll make time for it. What kind of meeting is it?"

"You remember dinner at your mother's?"

John frowned, "Yes. It was just last night, what about it?"

"This won't be like that."

"Anna-" The call ended and John turned to Talbot. "She's got a meeting with Green."

"Her Russian?"

"Yeah." John tapped his phone against his palm. "I need to make another call."


	17. When Once Was Not Enough

He pulled up to her building, taking a deep breath before exiting his car and walking up to Anna's floor. His hand shook slightly as he raised it to knock and John pulled it back to clench his fist for a second to focus. Letting out a deep breath, and standing still for a moment, he tried again and rapped his knuckles on the wooden door.

It opened and John's eyes widened at the sight of Anna. Her dress rode low and barely hung low enough on her thighs in the deepest shade of red John had seen outside lipstick. But what drew his attention were the circles under her eyes and the rattle of her fingers on the door to match the shadow of fear tracing her face.

"An-"

She shook her head, stepping back to let him into the flat. John bit the inside of his cheek, keeping a pace behind her, and waited for her escort into the sitting room. Green lounged on the sofa, his garish chain dangling on his chest in his shirt opened a button too far as his leather jacket creaked with each adjustment of his body.

Their eyes met as John took the seat across from him and John did not blink, holding himself steady in the knowledge that the exact position of Alex Green's Chechen ass was right where Anna took John on her sofa the first time they had sex. His lip twitched into a smile and it only deepened when Green frowned. John ignored the narrowing of his eyes to lean back in his chair and turn to Anna.

"Ordering in?"

"Anna's gone to the trouble of telling me she slaved the whole day on the stove on her own for this." Green opened his hand to Anna, waving for her to join her but Anna took a seat on the chair between the two men. John noted the contortion to Green's face before he hid it in a smile. "I'd say we should give credit where it's due."

"I'm not opposed to it."

"I doubt you're opposed to very much when it comes to Anna." Green shifted forward, rubbing his hands together. "I guess that's what comes from being owned by someone's vagina."

"I'm sorry?" John blinked, flicking a gaze toward Anna but she kept her eyes turned to the ground. "What did you just say?"

"My English," Green shrugged, "Sometimes it's wrong but I know that word. It's known in pornos as the pus-"

"I know what it's called." John stopped him, "I'm just wondering why you're using the term."

"Shouldn't I?" Green snorted his laugh. "You can't tell me she didn't seduce you to get the information she's been feeding me about your department and everyone in it."

"I can't say that's how it worked out."

"Because you don't want to admit that you allowed a woman to own you with her pussy?" Green sneered at him, "You've given up everything else Mr. Bates. Why not give up the façade?"

"I guess that depends on the façade you believe I need to abandon."

Green guffawed, covering his mouth to ineffectually muffle his laughter. "You can't tell me you seriously believe she actually loves you."

"I never said love was involved." John pointed at Green, "If anyone used that word, it was you."

"Then you could look me in the eye and tell me you're not in love with her?"

"I'm sure I could look you in the eye and tell you whatever the hell I wanted." John gave a snort of his own, "Why do people think it's so easy to tell if someone's lying in their eyes? There are a dozen other indicators of that."

"So you won't?"

"Looking in your eyes wouldn't inspire me to tell you the truth if my mother, God rest her soul, was alive and asked me to do it." John shrugged, "I hope that wasn't your test of my loyalty."

"Are you loyal?"

"Not to you." John spread his arms, "Because you're nothing to me."

"And Anna's something to you?"

"Anna's offer was something to me." John flicked his gaze toward Anna but she continued to avoid looking at either man. "Whatever else comes with it… comes with it."

"Did your wife's death tip you over the edge?" Green put himself on the very edge of the sofa cushion and gave a little laugh at John's confusion. "I'm sorry, I didn't lead correctly with that question."

"How else would you lead with it?"

"I guess what I mean is, if I told you Anna was the one who called the lorry to run over your wife, would you feel the same way about her?"

John's brow furrowed, fingers of his hands curling toward his palms at the leering grin on Green's face. "I'm not sure."

"Because it might mean you don't get your rocks off tonight?"

"Because it would necessitate that I believed a single word that comes out of your mouth. But since I think it's all shit I guess there's not much to do but wonder if your jaw aches at the end of the day from trying to hold it all in there." Green reddened and John saw the twitch he hoped was a vein throbbing in his temple. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I strike a nerve?"

"I don't take this from my subordinates."

"Good think I don't work for you." John turned to Anna, "I don't suppose there's a timer on the food. I came a bit more famished than I should've."

"They'll be done when it buzzes." Anna stood up, walking toward the kitchen and John faced Green again when he spoke.

"I suppose you think you'll save her. Wade into the quagmire yourself and then bring her back out like the prince in _The Princess Bride_?"

"There are two problems with your analogy there." John ticked up his fingers. "First, he was known as the Man in Black or Wesley. He was a poor farmboy, not the prince because the prince was a royal dick… with all the innuendos and puns intended. Second, I'd have to believe she needed saving to save her. For all I know you bullied your way into this building hoping I'd change my mind about whether or not I believe she works for you as a prostitute."

"Prositute?"

"You're here because you claimed to be Anna's pimp and then sent men to beat me for money." John snorted, "I hope you're not here to collect because neither of us could afford the charges of that endeavor."

Green's eyes widened and Anna's head flew up, ducking back down to handle whatever seeping meat she had in the dish as Green rotated to look at her over the back of the sofa. "You didn't tell him who you are?"

"Didn't tell me what?" John waited, studying the tightening and coiling of Green's shoulders as the man faced him again. "She owns a pub and I discuss work with her. You're some kind of harasser or something yeah?"

Green let out a chest-rocking laugh that led him to dramatically slap his leg in time with the contortions of his body. John met Anna's eyes and noted her sight of relief before she turned to the buzzing of her oven. It startled Green and he moved to the table while John went to the kitchen to help Anna.

"What are you playing at?" Anna hissed, shoving a stack of plates and silverware into his arms. "He won't take you seriously now."

"That's the point. Throw your enemy off balance." John grabbed the three glasses and took them to the table, setting it appropriately.

"Did they give etiquette lessons where you work Mr. Bates?" Green took his napkin, snapping it to lay on his lap. "I didn't think the Met cared much about how uncouth their employees are."

"I'm sure, where you're from, they train people on etiquette from the cradle to the grave." John adjusted the glasses perfectly, taking the bottle Anna handed him to pour. "Something about that fine line you've got to walk for that rather restrictive government of yours."

Green paused, "We're a free country."

"Free to freeze to death, starve, and go to prison for the rest of your lives for trying to speak out against your government." John held up the bottle, "Wine or do you want something stronger?"

"I never say no to a good vodka but I doubt you've got any."

"I'm sure your disparaging tone might lighten if you managed to get any whiskey in you." John corked the wine and took it back to the counter. "It's the creation of my ancestors and we're rather proud of it."

"I'm sure it's one of the only things you can claim to be proud of, Mr. Bates." Green leaned back as Anna brought the first of the dishes over. "You're the bitch of another country and you can't even express your national pride without having your government shit on you endlessly."

"I'm not sure you're in a position to talk about being shit on endlessly when you're the unofficial state of Russia and their whipping boy." John carried the last two dishes over, suppressing his smirk at the return of the throbbing vein. "What does it feel like to have Russian tanks run over your borders and claim they were lost on exercises but they'll stay just in case?"

"I do hope neither of you are vegetarians." Anna opened the dishes, "I've roast with potatoes and a rather nice assortment of asparagus."

"English food." Green scoffed, ladling a helping of the potatoes on his plate before taking a large hunk of the roast.

"We're in England, mate." John took his seat, Anna at his right side.

"No Russian delicacies Anna?" Green turned to her, fingering a broiled piece of asparagus before dropping it back into the serving dish. "I thought you liked Russian food."

"I was trying to be accommodating to all involved, Alexandr." Anna put her napkin on her lap and accepted John's offer of dishing onto her plate.

"Ah," Green pointed at it. "You've got him well trained. How many rounds of faked orgasms did that take?"

"There's nothing faked there." Anna raised her glass and sipped at it, John's knuckles tightening on the serving utensils.

"Not sure you're familiar with the phenomenon yourself." John set the utensils to the side, taking up his fork. "It means you actually are good at what you're doing."

"Something your wife couldn't have told you often if she turned to Carlisle for her needs." Green gulped his wine, John pausing with a bite raised to his mouth. "But he tired of her so I could understand you not wanting to fulfill marital obligation. It would get tiresome with someone as horribly demanding as your wife."

Green nodded at Anna with his filled fork, dropping a splat of potato on the tablecloth. "Not like Anna, yes?"

"You didn't know my wife, Mr. Green." John swallowed, forcing the bite between his teeth and chewing with a counted practice to keep himself focused. "I'm sure what you think you know isn't anything to know at all."

"Richard Carlisle disagrees. He's the one who told me all about her." Green took another swallow of his wine. "He's the one who asked us to kill her you know. Said she was getting tiresome. Always troubling him for the promise of marriage as she tried to get rid of her limp dick-ed husband."

"Those who are unhappy want everyone else to be unhappy too."

"But it's more than that." Green sucked air through his teeth, John forcing another bite to force his heart rate down. "She'd broken into his office, the bitch, and decided to use what she found there as leverage. Said it was the last straw and she'd report him and all his horrible activities if he didn't marry her."

Green snorted, drinking again. "I can't see what he saw in her to begin with but I understood when he asked for the favor."

"Favor?"

"Arranging the lorry that broke her in two." Green pointed at John, "But I don't need to tell you. You watched it happen."

"That's disgusting." Anna dropped her fork as John carved his knife into the table. "Why would you say that?"

"I just thought it interesting conversation."

"No," John's knuckles almost glowed with how much whiter than the tablecloth they were and his fork shook in his hand. "You did to get a rise out of me."

"Is it working?" Green grinned over the edge of his glass.

John went to respond but choked it back as Anna's hand snaked under the table and dug into his thigh. He turned to say something but she stroked toward his groin and whatever he had to say died in his mouth under the ministrations of her hand while her voice drew Green's attention. Dropping his fork to clink against his plate, Anna barely stirred and Green only spared him a disparaging glance.

"I think what you're trying to determine, Alexandr, is whether or not he's going to crack under the pressure."

"Aren't you worried about that?" Green pointed at John, who brought his hand up as if to rest his chin on his closed fist but instead sunk his teeth into his skin as Anna opened his trousers and brought him out to tease him harder. "Aren't you worried this little pig here'll squeal to his masters the moment he realizes it's not just about shagging you?"

"Then what's it about?" John coughed out, the slight widening of Anna's eyes staring there as John put his hand over the table to skate up her thigh to push under her wisp of a skirt and the line of her knickers. "I wasn't aware I was anything but the paperboy in all this. I get the information and I pass it along. What more is there?"

"This is the difference between you and I." Green pointed between them, John biting down on his jaw when Anna squeezed hard at his base. He retaliated with a finger between her legs to press the lacy material of her knickers against her clit as Green lubricated his throat with another swallow of his wine. "I'm not owned by her pussy and you are."

"I don't think that's the difference between you and I." John dragged his knuckle over her and Anna bit her lip to cover her reaction. "I think the difference is that you've never slept with her and you want to."

"I'd rather be over her than under her, Mr. Bates." Green reached for the wine, pouring himself another round. "Would you like a demonstration?"

"Oh what?"

"Of the power I have over her and therefor over you?"

"I don't think that'll be necessary." John's free hand almost grabbed for his knife but stopped as Anna shifted his other hand away from her body and freed his erection of her grip. The motion startled him enough to stop his reaction but his ears pricked at Green's laughter. "Something funny?"

"You. You still think you're free to do what you will."

"Aren't I?"

"No and I'll prove it."

"How?"

John tried to breathe a sigh of relief that he could now direct all his thoughts toward Green but Anna adjusted in her seat and a moment later brought his fingers in contact with her bare skin. He turned to her but Anna kept her focus on Green, watching him with the same study a hawk might give a vole. Green settled back in his chair and he waved a hand between them.

"Sit on his lap Anna."

"Excuse me?" John put the hand farthest from her up as a signal to stop, his eyes not leaving Green. "What are you playing at?"

"This." Green dew a gun, pointing it first at John and then rotating his hand to aim it at Anna. "Sit on his lap Anna."

She pushed her chair back, eyes never leaving Green's, and straddled John's legs with her back to his chest to keep her expression toward Green. John tried to adjust but all his hands could do was dig into the exposed skin of her thighs as she intentionally sheathed herself on him. The tight, wet slide fought all of the adrenaline in John's body trying to react to the gun, all the fear telling him to push her under the table and try and defend them, and all the rage building since the start of the evening to break Green's neck.

"See?" Green put the gun on the table, "That's the power I have. She does what I say when I say it. Do you know why?"

"Death's a great motivator."

"That's for children," Green waved a hand as if to bat down the insufficient explanation. "Fear. She's afraid I might shoot you. Just like she was afraid of what might happen to her in Russia. And that's why I hold the power, Mr. Bates."

"Do you?" John ground out, fighting the building rage that dug his fingers into Anna's thighs and forced his hips to drive himself into her as her hands stayed on the table.

"I do. Because I control one of the most cowardly women with fear and she controls you with sex." Green snorted, "It's funny. I could threaten to do anything to her and you'd be dumb enough to jump to her aid."

"I don't think of it as dumb."

"Nobility gets people dead, Mr. Bates." Green shook his head, "It's each for himself and the sooner you realize that the less you'll be disappointed."

"You're very cynical."

"I'm Chechen."

"Then what?" John struck particularly deep and Anna's elbow slipped from the table. "I'm supposed to expect that everyone'll let me down, is that it?"

"That's exactly it." Green turned back to his wine and John brought his fingers to her clit, pressing and rubbing to bring her shuddering over the edge and the tight cling of her walls around him as he rutted out his own end. "It's why I want Anna to get you in on one of our operations."

"What?" Anna gasped out, the shine of sweat on the side of her face glinting in the light. Even with all the emotions already running high, John wanted nothing more than to lick it off. He forced himself to pay attention to the conversation. "That's compromise everything."

"He's a strong man. I'm sure I could use him with some of the things I do. He's wasted as your source of information."

"That's what makes him valuable." Anna leaned forward and John almost bit through his tongue when it changed the angle of him still inside her. "If he's playing that kind of double game they'll sniff him out in a heartbeat and you know it."

"Like I know how you're the one who gave them the information to get Pamuk?" Green sneered at John, "Did you like the commendation they pinned to your chest?"

"It's a piece of metal. It wasn't as good as cuffing all those men and then watching them board the plane to go back to their own country." John tried to lean around Anna, slipping out of her as gracefully as he could manage. "Just like how the information we're wringing from Simon Bricker'll be exactly what we need to get Richard Carlisle too."

"I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Green pointed his fork at John, "To get the man who got your wife."

"It's more what that might do to whatever remains of Pamuk's organization."

"Not mine?" Green took another bite of his meat, finally pushing the plate back. "Don't think me so stupid as to not understand the emotions that have your fingers twitching toward the knife you used on your steak."

"What me to plant it in your chest?"

Green laughed, opening his hand as if to display John while he spoke at Anna. "You refused to sleep with me in Russia and this is what you choose? Don't tell me this washed up DI makes you happy."

"He makes me very happy a few times a night." Anna's hand slipped her napkin under the table and John grabbed it, wiping at them both to try and clean them up as much as possible. "But that's not the point."

"No. The point is you could've saved yourself all this trouble if you'd just submitted then." Green pushed himself back from the table, taking the gun to tuck into the waistband of his jeans. "Instead you're submitting now. Again and again and again until you can't anymore."

"Maybe it's not about the easy way out." John spoke up, drawing a raised eyebrow from Green. "Maybe it's about giving up those things we want to get those things we need more."

"Like you?" Green cackled, "I'm sure you tell yourself that at night to make it all better."

He nodded at Anna, "Not bad, as dinners go. I'll show myself out since I've got work to do still tonight."

Neither of them moved until the door clicked in its jamb. John stood up in a hurry, almost dropping Anna to the floor but he caught her, helping her find her balance, and then put a hand through his hair before settling his trousers. His arm flung towards the door as he spluttered for words.

"He threatened you in your own home."

"I was here and I know what he did." Anna gathered the dishes, not meeting John's gaze. "It's what you do."

"You put up with how he treats you." John followed her to the kitchen as she scraped the leftover food into containers and left the dishes in the sink, turning on a steam of water that started a level of bubbles. "How could you just sit there and listen to him?"

"Because what else can I do?" Anna threw her hands up, finally meeting John's gaze. "It's not just about his gun or his friends or whatnot. It's that he knows things about me that would ruin my life if they were public knowledge."

"You're life's already ruined Anna." John slammed the faucet off, the bubbles in the sink wobbling a moment. "He controls your life."

"Is this about me or about his accusation that I control you with sex?" Anna folded her arms over her chest. "Because I think you're defensive about the idea that you're not as in control of this situation as you'd like to be."

"You think I liked hearing that?"

"They're just words, John."

"But they're not just words." John slapped his hand against his chest. "I had to tell him that I don't love you."

"And I wish that were true because it'd make the game we're playing so much easier." Anna sighed, "Love just complicates things."

"But I want to love you Anna."

"Then maybe you've made a mistake." She tried to move back to the table but John stood in her way. "I do hope you're not about to stand in my way."

"You're standing in your way Anna."

"I meant literally, not metaphorically." She ducked under his arm, "And for the record, you wouldn't be the personification of me standing in my own way."

"That's not…" John groaned, pushing both hands through his hair hard enough to tear out chunks. "You don't understand."

"No it's you who doesn't understand." Anna pointed the now half-filled, sloshing wine bottle at him. "You don't understand what it's like to live with a mistake you can't escape because it's not something the court might help you dissolve. You don't understand what it's like to walk on eggshells and keep your balancing act en pointe because if you fall then you'll die. You don't have a sodding clue what I'm going through."

She threw the bottle and Jon flinched when it broke over her sink, leaking the purple liquid over the backsplash and down into the soppy water to dye the bubbles purple. "You only understand your job, your career, your pains. You've not taken a minute to comprehend mine outside how it fits with your agenda."

"Anna-"

"Don't speak." She came over to him, her smaller form practically quivering. "You don't know what it's like to be used because you've never been really used."

"Haven't I?"

"Not yet." Her hand wrapped the back of his neck and dragged his mouth to hers.

He stumbled, trying to follow the lead of her hands and body but he was helpless. Anna pushed him back toward the table and John hit it with his hips. But her hands on his chest pushed him on top of the white cloth and he jerked when it groaned under him.

"Anna?"

"It'll hold." She reached down, drawing her dress over her head and leaving John's mouth to go dry when he realized she forsook a bra.

With her knickers still on the floor near her chair it left her as glorious as a master's painting of a Greek goddess. John reached for her but Anna only unbuckled his belt and yanked his trousers down his legs. They bunched at his calves, slipping steadily down toward his ankles when he weight of his boxers joined them.

Her hand and mouth wrapped and squeezed and sucked and teased him until the release of ten minutes ago was like a warm up. He jerked and bucked on the table, moving the wood on the floor as it creaked and squeaked. Anna ignored his verbal and nonverbal cues, taking her teeth in a scraping line up him before taking his sack into her mouth. John wrenched the tablecloth in his clenched fists and groaned.

She sucked to the edge, coming off with a pop, and then climbed off a chair to mount him. Their eyes met and Anna sank onto him as slowly as she ever had. His quivering erection sank into the familiar heat of her and John moaned. When his hands came toward her Anna knocked them away and shook her head.

"You're being used. You don't get to play."

He frowned and then his eyes rolled back into his head as she rode him. There was not calm, steady motion to her; just a frantic ride that knocked their skin hard enough to bruise to the bone. But she did not let up until John came with a shout and eyes scrunched shut. Anna followed a moment later, the product of the right angle and her own fingers.

Sliding off him, Anna tossed John an unused napkin. "That's what it feels like to be used, Mr. Bates. I hope you don't forget."

He sat up, holding the napkin in his fingers and watched her leave the room.


	18. Never Let Them See You Cry

John knocked on her bathroom door but heard no answer. He knocked again and over the water of her shower he thought he heard another noise. Pushing into the room he saw Anna, a hand on the wall, standing under the stream of her shower as her whole body shook. Another step forward told him she shook with sobs.

He toed off his shoes and socked but only dropped his belt atop them before pulling the glass partition back to step closer to her. She startled when he wrapped his arms around her from behind but it only took a second for her to turn into him, sobbing on his shoulder. The water soaked through his clothes in seconds and left Anna trying to pull his clothes from him.

"You'll ruin them."

"It's fine." He tried to soothe her, fingers caressing over her face and lowering his lips to kiss at her eyes. "It's all going to be alright Anna."

"No it's not." She beat her fists uselessly against her chest as if all the strength in her body failed her.

John helped her over to the small seat, putting her there and redirecting the shower spray so it beat on his lower back instead of on his head. "Why won't it be alright Anna? What could be wrong about it all that isn't already?"

"The part where I love you." Anna buried her head in her hands and John's mouth dropped to his chest. "When Green threatened you by threatening me… it triggered something in me and I realized that it's not just you who'd do anything to keep me safe. I'd do the same for you."

She wiped at her eyes, a bit of a useless venture under the bouncing of the water over the shower. "All he'd have to do is snap his fingers and I'd jump to if it meant I could save you."

"I thought you said-"

"To Hell with whatever I said." Anna put her hands on his cheeks. "I'm frightened. Frightened for you because the deeper we fall into this the deeper you feel for me and the deeper I feel for you. We're playing with fire John. We're walking the raggedy edge and expecting we'll fall on the right side of it all."

"Why wouldn't we?"

"Because the world doesn't work that way." Anna clawed her wet hair back from her face. "The world doesn't work for people who think it's romantic to walk into showers fully clothed. It's impractical and-"

John surged up and took Anna's lips with his. Her fingers fluttered on his cheek and then gripped at his neck when his hands ran up her legs to tease at her clit. She writhed against him when his hips fit between her legs and allowed his fingers to slip and slide deeper toward every familiar and secret part of her.

He continued kissing her, riling her up as he slowed the pace until she seemed to catch up before speeding up again. It countered the rhythm he built in his strokes that put a finger inside her. Another finger joined the first in less than a minute and Anna's grip tightened on his hair and the back of his neck with the tilt of her hips toward him.

The growl that came out of her when John removed his fingers sent shivers down his spine but it turned to a sigh of pleasure when he lowered his mouth there.

"John," She clutched at his hair, pushing him where she wanted as his hands moved her legs over his shoulders and one hand cupped her ass to bring her closer.

Each flat stroke of his tongue sent her body shuddering around him. When he pointed his tongue to swirl her opening she gasped and moaned. And the sucking motion that also left him nipping at her clit left echoing shrieks bouncing off the walls of the shower stall.

The water hitting his back and neck stung with a chill now and John quickened his pace. Anna could no longer form words, whimpering with each continuing tease of his tongue, and John slipped a little as he tried to bring the pressure off his aching knees. His fingers took their original position, crooking inside her to drag and stretch against the desperate cling of her walls, and his tongue pulled her clit fully into his mouth to finish her.

Her orgasm almost overtook him but John used the moment of her dazed satisfaction to wrestle himself free of his clothes. They hit the floor of the shower with wet flops and John tried to escape them as gracefully as possible but the clunkiness of his movements telegraphed to him by the little smile Anna managed to give him with her eyes still slightly glazed.

He came back to her, holding her steady in his arms as he raised her. Anna's back hit the wall and she opened her mouth but it turned to a gasp when John opened her thighs to sink into her. They rocked together, slow and steady in the chilling water. Her feet twitched against the hit of the spray and her nails dug into his shoulder to signal him to move faster.

John worked his arms under her thighs and gripped her ass to control their motions. The slick sounds of their meeting added friction with the abrasively cold water to counter the scorching inferno of their encounter. Each motion sent John a little deeper and Anna's voice a little higher.

Another set of his feet, carefully so he did not slip and land them both on their asses or- worse- injure them, and John hit her clit with each brush of his pelvic bone. One of Anna's hands flew out, grabbing at a soap shelf to try and find stability, and the other raked over his shoulder. John nudged her chin up and took over her mouth with fiery kisses he then skated over her skin to replicate as he licked and suckled at her delicate breasts.

Each motion brought new sounds from the two of them until Anna shattered around him. She tightened her grip, wither her legs and hands and her vagina, and John gave over to the pull. He tumbled over the edge with the frigid water to coax him into the frenetic pace that left them both gasping.

They slumped to the floor, John failing a moment to shut off the water, and sat there on the cold tiles. Anna rested her head on John's shoulder, holding herself to him as if she could sink into his very skin. His hands ran over her back until their mutual shivering seemed to rock the shower like an earthquake.

There was nothing to say as they found towels to dry and warm themselves or as John retrieved his clothes and borrowed her washer. The gentle thud of the machine offered a small measure of odd comfort in light of the events that left him and Anna curled around one another under her covers. His fingers in her hair, trailing it out over her pillow, were the last thing they both remembered before they fell asleep.

* * *

Talbot leaned toward John as they stood in front of the mirror, watching Robert try to convince the man, with too smug an expression, inspect his fingernails for grit. The lawyer next to him, and man with an impressive if not outdated white mustache, argue the case with words that had John struggling to keep his eyes open. He rubbed furiously at them and checked his watch.

"Time's almost up."

"He'll get him." Talbot rocked on the balls of his feet, hands stuffed into his pockets. "He'll get him and then we'll nail his ass to the wall. It'll be like collecting trophies. We've already got Bricker. We'll get Carlisle. And then Green'll be our pièce de résistance."

"Try not to count your chickens before they hatch huh? It could turn out to be a basilisk's egg in there." Talbot frowned and John sighed, " _Harry Potter_?"

"Never read them."

"It you also tell me you've never seen _Star Wars_ I might have to have words with you."

"More than the words we're already having?" Talbot teased and John raised a finger in warning before pulling his phone from his pocket.

Stepping into the corridor he slid his thumb over the screen, "John Bates."

"Can you come outside? It's urgent."

"Sure." John ended the call and slipped to the back of the building. Dodging a few of the patrol cars pulling in and out for their shifts, he jogged to the other side of the road and hunched his shoulders against the rain. "What's up?"

Anna stood under an umbrella, her fingers flexing on the handle, with her coat cinched tightly about her waist. Alexei's making a move."

"Can I ask three questions?"

"Didn't you just?" She smiled for half a second before it vanished.

"I counted that one in the round." John ticked up a finger, edging under her umbrella to get out of most of the rain. "Second, why do you sometimes call him 'Alexei' while other times you call him 'Alex' or even 'Alexandr'?"

"Alexei is short for Alexandr."

"It's also the familiar version of the nickname." John shuddered, "I'm just glad you don't call him 'Sasha'."

"I don't tend to refer to people by something I'd call my cat." Anna shuffled in place, "It's a little chilly and you had a third question."

"Right," John shook himself, "Except you never fully answered the last one."

"It's about mood. When he's being a bigger dick than normal I call him 'Alex'. When he frightens me I call him 'Alexei'. And when he's acting as my boss I call him 'Alexandr'." Anna opened her other hand, "Satisfied?"

"He's planning something that's terrified you?"

"That sounds like a question."

"That sounds like a diversion." John watched Anna flick her eyes to the ground. "What's the plan?"

"He's moving on an arms deal. He got wind that MI5 had a few embedded people in a few organizations that got themselves on the right side of a big buy. They've got it all set up for evidence but Alexei plans to take it for himself and leave them scrambling to get rid of each other."

"Then what do you want us to do?"

"If Alexei's taking it out from underneath them, then you get it from underneath him." Anna chewed the inside of her cheek. "I know I make it sound easier than it is but it's not an opportunity to miss."

"I never said it was." John jerked his thumb back toward the building. "I've got to get back. You never…"

He stopped mid-turn as Carlisle and his lawyer walked out the back door. Carlisle brought the collar on his coat up, smirking to himself, and went to say something to his lawyer but caught sight of Anna. John noted her shrink back slightly under the cover of her umbrella but Carlisle waved his lawyer off to approach them. His fingers fumbled his phone into his pocket, but not before turning on the microphone app with the volume up high enough to catch sound over the splatter of the rain and the muffle of his trouser pocket.

"Ms. Smith what a pleasure to see you."

"I can't say the same."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows, only barely noticing John's presence. "After all the trouble you went to when you warned me that I was a person of interest in this case."

"What case?" John swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in time with the closing of his fist.

"Some tragic accident with my secretary." Carlisle stopped, eyes narrowing as he looked at John. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"I doubt we run in the same circles."

"No," Carlisle nodded, "I couldn't see that either."

"What's the drama with your secretary?" Anna hurried back into the conversation, putting a hand toward John but he ignored it.

"Some billing or some such that seems to link me to an art dealer smuggling drugs into the country." Carlisle smoothed back his hair, rain slicking off his fingers to scatter drops over John's coat when Carlisle's hand gesticulated in time with his thoughts. "Me, a respectable man, have anything to do with drugs?"

"Perhaps it was about something else." John offered, grinding his teeth to the root. "You never know. Maybe they're fishing for something."

"They certainly are." Carlisle faced Anna again, "I really do owe you and your boss a debt of gratitude. Coming in and saying I'd been harassed by John Bates put them all on their toes and now they're scrambling to try and prove that I had a hand in drug smuggling."

"I'm sure my boss'll be pleased to know you're not hanging out to dry for something you didn't do." Anna turned to leave but Carlisle caught her arm. "Was there something else, Mr. Carlisle?"

"I wanted to also ask," He lowered his voice, flicking his eyes toward John but Anna waved off the worry.

"He's with me, Mr. Carlisle."

"He's got a touch of the bodyguard about him." Carlisle nodded and then cleared his throat. "I wanted to thank your boss for his help with my other problem."

Anna frowned, "Which one? Not to be too bold, Mr. Carlisle, but you've had many over the past few months since you and my boss began your relationship."

"Yes, the loss of Mr. Pamuk was… a blow."

"Personal friend of yours?" John offered and Carlisle shrugged up a shoulder."

"He was useful. Knew a number of people in Turkey and the surrounding region. Got me a really nice place there for my reporters and we tended to scratch one another's backs once in awhile. That kind of thing." Carlisle addressed Anna again, "But with what Vera threatened to tell the police… I'm sure you understand the depth of my gratitude that he stepped in when he did. It saved me so much embarrassment."

"I'm sure whatever he did was adequate."

"He scheduled a sodding lorry to run her over." Carlisle barked out. "He's a miracle worker, your boss, and I want you to tell him I said so."

"I'm sure you can tell him yourself."

"Oh, no." Carlisle shook his head with a borderline fanaticism. "I wouldn't dare interrupt Alex Green at his work. What kind of idiot would I be?"

"The kind who got himself on tape." John pulled his phone out, scrolling back to replay Carlisle's voice saying, 'He scheduled a sodding lorry to run her over' before saving the file and switching his phone for his handcuffs. "You've the right to remain silent."

Carlisle turned to Anna, eyes wide, but she only stepped out of his way as John took the man's arms behind his back. "You tricked me."

"My boss says 'hello' and advises that you stick to a story that doesn't put you on the wrong side of those people who could make your very long stay in a very dark place very difficult." Anna nodded at him. "Enjoy prison."

"Didn't you hear her?" Carlisle fought against the restraints, his lawyer coming over but John waved him off. "Who she admitted she works for?"

"I heard her well enough." John wrenched Carlisle back toward the office, turning over his shoulder to talk to Anna. "Mind sending me the details on that other thing you're going to help with?"

"It'd be my pleasure." Anna nodded at him and slipped off into the rain.

John forced Carlisle back into the building and sat him right back in the same interrogation room, Robert and Talbot both pausing in the middle of their respective sentences as they argued in the corridor to frown in confusion and point toward the room. Before either could find words, John held up his phone and played the same segment again.

Talbot brightened in a moment, taking the phone from John's hand and scurrying towards a computer to save the file while Robert whistled. "Not sure how you did it Bates but that… that was a work of art."

"I can't take all the credit sir." John peeked into the room and then took Robert's arm, leading him farther down the hall so the only thing they could hear was the muffled struggle of the lawyer trying to find out what happened with Carlisle. John lowered his voice and spoke, "It was Anna."

"Anna?" Robert frowned, "How'd she get him to confess?"

John cringed, "She might've been the one to put him onto our investigation in the first place."

"That's not ringing very well for her."

"I know," He put up a hand to stop Robert's next argument. "But it got him cocky and then he blew it. What more can we say except he's hoisted on his own petard?"

"That he tripped and broke his face." Robert shook his head, peeking back toward the room. "Something about this feels almost too good to be true but I want to take it and run with both hands."

"Then you'll like what else I've got to tell you."

"Which is?"

"Arms deal and the chance to make MI5 look like a bunch of wankers."

Robert's smile deepened with malicious glee. "Tell me more."

* * *

John tapped the dashboard in Talbot's car and dodged Talbot's swipe with his arm. "Watch it."

"Then knock it off. You're not Ringo Starr, Roger Taylor, or Phil Collins so knock it off."

"I think you just dated yourself a decade and a half early mate."

Talbot scowled at John. "There aren't any good drummers in this generation. Maybe that woman from Neon Trees but otherwise we're shit out of luck in that department."

"You've no hope in the new generation?"

"No." Talbot grabbed his binoculars and then passed them to John. "We've got movement. Looks like they got the 'all-clear' and are moving in on the crate."

John went to raise the binoculars to his eyes to get a look for himself and paused, "Something about this feels oddly familiar."

"How'd you mean?"

"We were in your car, waiting for that… What's his name?"

"Branson?"

"That one, to get something out of a shipping crate." John frowned, ticking his fingers on the binoculars as he thought out loud. "He spotted us and then scampered off. We found out they'd been tailing us and…"

John snatched the radio. "Abort. This is DI Bates. We need to abort this sting it's a-"

The crate in front of them exploded and the orange-yellow glow illuminated everything around them. John and Talbot rocked in their seats as the shock wave rumbled the car and dissipated behind them with a rattling of other containers. In the fading flames, John watched bodies twitch or crawl away from the raging inferno.

He and Talbot broke from the car, sprinting over the pavement to grab those closest to them and drag them from the danger zone as the crate continued to spit and lash out. Talbot grabbed his radio, shouting for assistance and an ambulance as gunfire rattled about them. John ducked, grabbing Talbot's jacket to pull him to the ground, and tried to take cover.

A bullet exploded in the pavement next to him and John grabbed at the rifle strapped to the still-groaning man next to him. Twisting the strap, John fired at the approaching men until someone's shout finally reached all ears. "MI5, lower your weapons. We're MI5 and you're ordered to stand down."

"Metropolitan Police." John raised his hands, dropping the gun and waiting for two people to grab his shoulders and force him to the ground. "My credentials are in my pocket. Just…"

Someone pawed at his ass and then his chest to find the credentials there before tossing them back to him. "What the Hell is the Met doing here?"

"We got a tip." Talbot brushed at his jacket, getting off the pavement. "What are you doing here?"

"We're running a training scenario." The MI5 team around them whispered and most of them moved away, trying to get a better idea of the actual situation. "Who set off the explosion?"

John stood as well, tucking his credentials away. "I'm sure that's not the point here when we've got injured to worry over."

"They'll be taken care of. We've got three stand-by medics and your friend's radio for an ambulance'll take care of that." The man wrenched a helmet off his head. "Who gave you the tip?"

"A CI said you were trying to stop an arms deal because you had a few embedded people who got some…" The man sprinted from them, yelling into his radio and John turned to Talbot. "What the hell is going on?"

"I think we just got played again in a big way." Talbot sighed, pivoting toward the flashing lights. "Come on. We've got triage and then we can worry about how we got so royally buggered."

They helped the ambulance get the most wounded into the backs of the vans and then loaded as many as they could into their cars to make their way to hospital. John and Talbot helped process everyone in and then waited in the waiting room, like the most morbid reunion, for any news. Unfortunately for them, the news that greeted them was Chief Crawley bursting through the doors at two in the morning with his face purpled with rage.

"Someone had better be ready to explain to me how this all went to shit or I'll demote everyone in a rotating order until someone does."

"Sir," John stood up, putting a hand to Robert's shoulder to guide him away from the others. "I've got an idea of how it all went fubar but I haven't had time to confirm my theories."

"Then I'd suggest you stop your midnight vigil and go and find out what went wrong here because, in case you were curious, you were the first one on the list."

John nodded, grabbing his grimy jacket and exchanging looks with Talbot before catching the tossed keys. He drove through the city to Anna's bar, noting the lights still on as some figures staggered from inside. Parking, John dodged two swaying patrons, and hurried inside.

Gwen waved at him from the bar before pushing someone back off it. "A little late for you isn't it?"

"Is she here?"

"I'd hope so. It's her friends that planned this." Gwen waved a hand at the group. "Russians, all of them. They've only got a taste of vodka and I can't seem to get them to taken an interest in anything else."

"Sounds like a situation." John pointed toward the ceiling. "Is she up there?"

"Should be. She checks in before she leaves and she hasn't tonight. Oi!" Gwen nodded one last time at John before going to the other end of the bar to slap someone away. "That's Glenlivet and I know you've not got the money for it so put it back before I take a broom to your ass."

John pushed through a few people and took the stairs to Anna's office. He did not knock and shoved his way inside. She looked up from her work and set her pen down to lean back in her chair.

"You're in a rush. I suspect you're not here for the party downstairs. Well… you wouldn't be celebrating with them given what they've done this evening to screw up your life."

"Save it." John pounded his fist on the desk, ignoring the pain. "What did you do?"

"I'm not sure I know exactly what you mean." Anna put her arms on her chair, steepling her fingers. "I didn't do anything."

"You said there was an arms deal going down tonight. You said that MI5 wanted it but we could take it."

"I did." Anna nodded, biting at her lip. "I guess I… lied."

"Why?"

"It's part of the game." Anna shrugged, her shoulders, "Surely you didn't think this was all in your favor, did you?"

"You helped us with the Turkish, you gave us Bricker, you helped me get Carlisle…" John flailed, "Why would this be different?"

"Because you're looking at it from the perspective you want to see." Anna tipped back her chair, holding herself on one foot like the ballerina she used to be. "You didn't realize what all of those things gained for me."

"What?"

"Oh John," She laughed. "Don't tell me you weren't paying attention."

"To what?"

"I told you Alex wanted to go legitimate. I told you about the Turkish to clean them from the streets to leave them open for us… and that was back in your interrogation room." Anna clicked her teeth, "I guess I'll have to spell the rest of it out for you too, won't I?"

"Please, don't hold back." John ground his teeth, sitting hard in his chair. "You've strung me up to look like a fool."

"Alex told you it's dangerous to get controlled by someone like me." Anna's face twitched for a moment. "I'm good at what I do and I know how to do it. I toppled Bricker and Carlisle so we could get their businesses. It's part of the goal to legitimize and make it harder for the government to track our movements."

"Then why tell me?"

"Because you can't do anything to stop us now." Anna leaned forward, putting her arms on her desk and resting on them. "I hope there aren't any hard feelings. It wasn't personal John."

"Feels very personal." John pushed himself to stand. "You almost killed some of our people tonight. Good people who didn't deserve what they got."

"No one deserves what they get, John. That's life. If you don't like it then leave it." Anna picked up her pen again, "I'll take this as the end of our rather… tumultuous relationship."

"You should." John left the office, banging the door behind him.

The autopilot part of him that drove back to hospital left Talbot's car haphazardly parked in a space but he could not find it in him to care. He walked into the waiting room as if someone else or something else controlled his motions and barely registered Talbot. Half-heartedly throwing him the keys, John turned to Robert and cleared his throat.

"Could we find somewhere private to talk?"

They found a side room and John almost closed the door but Robert had him keep it open a crack. "In case there's any news."

John nodded and swallowed, "I need to tell you something. You're not going to like any of what I have to say but I only ask you listen until I finish. Then you can do what you want with me and I'll take it all lying down."

Robert raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do tell."

John told it all from the beginning. From the first moment he saw Anna's picture in the file until the last word in their final conversation. He only left Talbot and Mary out of it, not ready for Robert's heart to shatter in front of him instead of just break. When he finished, throat scratching slightly, John coughed.

"That's the end of it. Almost every detail."

"Almost?"

"I excluded the details of how we had sex since they're not really anything you need to know and I doubt you want to know."

"Fair point." Robert put a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. "They'll have you badge for this Bates. You'll be out on your ass faster than you can anything in your defense."

"I know."

"They might toss me out too. And Talbot, for good measure." Robert shuddered, "Times like these I wish throwing someone else under the bus would do anything to solve the problem but the Super's severe."

"She won't help you?"

"Ha," Robert gave his mirthless laugh, dropping his arms at his sides. "My mother didn't even pack my lunches as a child. Why would she help me now?"

"I don't know." John hung his head, "This all got… I cocked it all up."

"You did." Robert chewed the inside of his cheek. "I guess we've got to explain this fiasco somehow."

John brightened a moment, "Then here's the deal I'll make."

"I'm not sure you're in a place to make deals."

"Listen," John put up a hand. "I'll explain away what happened here. Regardless of what her motives for getting us to bag the Turkish, or Carlisle, or Bricker, those are still good grabs. They're not going anywhere. The fruit wasn't from a poisoned tree and we're set with that."

"Fair point." Robert narrowed his eyes, "Then what've you got to save yourself?"

"Everything." John took a breath. "I know a way to get them everything they'll need. Her, the operation she runs, everyone she works with, every connection she's got on either side of the old Iron Curtain, and hopefully Green himself. They'll get all of it and my resignation to boot."

"You'll resign?"

"As long as I get my full pension, benefits, and no marks on my record they get everything I just promised and I'll never say a word about it. I'll fade into the background like I never existed at all."

Robert waited a moment and then extended a hand to John, "You've got a deal. Get me what you promised and you retire like the officer you are."

"Thank you sir." John took his hand back. "I'd best get home and get some rest before I bring you the Russian Empire on a platter."

"You could give it to me like boxed wine and I wouldn't complain at this point." Robert put a hand on his arm, "How do we explain this?"

"Since I'm sure MI5 found out they've got a leak that might've revealed some of their agents, we'll start with that as collateral for them keeping their mouths shut about us interrupting exercises. Further we say it's suspected terrorist activity or, at the very least, a joke in exceedingly poor taste."

"I'll go talk to the men in finer suits than mine then." Robert shook himself, "I hate MI5."

John headed back to the waiting room, shaking Talbot awake. He snorted and tried to pull his lanky form higher in the chair as John took the space next to him. "You got it all worked out?"

"Much as you can when you realize you've screwed yourself every way to Sunday and more besides." John took a breath, "I've got to get back to my flat. The end if nigh for me and I need to fulfill my end of the bargain."

Talbot nodded. "I'm sorry about how all of this is shaking out John. It's not fair to you."

"It wasn't fair to anyone when I decided at the beginning to think with my dick instead of my brain." John stood, "Text me if anything changes here yeah?"

"Yeah." Talbot nodded and John left.

The Tube ride home was like watching someone else do what he did. John kept to himself, walked mechanically, and reached his door exhausted to no end. His key slipped in the lock three times before he managed to open the door. The sparse greeting of the lone sofa, the television supported on the boxes all marked for his books, and a kitchen missing table and chairs rang hollowly with his steps over the floor.

John removed his jacket, all but throwing it into the washer once he took what he needed from the pockets, and kicked his shoes to the side. He slumped on to the sofa but rose quickly, remembering Anna giving him head there before they finished together. A formerly sweet memory souring like the touch of a frost immediately curling every leaf clinging desperately to a tree.

He pulled at his tie as someone knocked on his door. Checking his watch, the sliver of pink out his ceiling-to-floor windows promising a new day, John opened the door. His jaw dropped when he saw Anna there, appearing far more deflated than she had just two hours prior.

"I'm so sorry John. Can you ever forgive me?"


	19. Fear Is the Mind Killer

He blinked at her. "What?"

"I asked if you could-"

"Are you bloody serious?" John leaned on the door. "You all but laugh in my face about how you played me, used me, and abused me for months and then you've got the gall to show up at my door and ask me to forgive you?"

"They were bugging my office. They tape me in there. What else was I supposed to say?"

"Why you screwed us all over with that information." John shrugged, "That would've been a nice start."

"Because I needed to preserve my position with Alexei and if I didn't…" Anna stopped, taking a breath. "I'm just here to apologize. I couldn't… I couldn't think of any other option and it was all I had."

"We have three officers in Intensive Care while their families wait for word with baited breath. The only reason I'm not with them is because…" John stopped himself, "You know what. It doesn't sodding matter. You've made your bed and now you've got to lie in it."

"Because you can talk." Anna put her hand on the door, stopping John closing it. "What bothers you more John? That your precious source wasn't a hundred percent devoted to your cause or that I wasn't a hundred percent devoted to you."

"You want to spit that at me when less than forty-eight hours ago you were sobbing in your shower about how you loved me?"

"I wouldn't be at your door at four in the bloody morning if I didn't love you."

"Well I think-"

"If you both could manage to shut the hell up," Both turned as a man down the hall opened the door. "And take your argument somewhere else that'd be fantastic."

"We're… We're sorry… Charlie?" John cringed and the man glared.

"It's Jimmy and, for the little my opinion's worth in your little spat, I think you're both wankers. Kiss and make up and have done with it."

The door slammed and both jumped before looking at one another again. John stepped to the side and ushered Anna into his flat, closing the door with a click. "Does anyone know you're here?"

"No." Anna shook her head. "Gwen's closing the pub and Alexei'll be off celebrating at his favorite whorehouse I'm sure."

She fiddled with the strap on her purse and then dropped it on his island. "I'm not sure there's anything I can say that would help you or your boss understand what all this is but, for what little it's worth, I am sorry."

"Sorry I'm caught up in it all or sorry you can't help?"

Anna scoffed, "I'm sure whatever personal issues you and I have there's enough mistrust there that we could mine that shit for centuries. As it stands, we're both horribly screwed up people but I'd have you remember that I met your mother and that wasn't nothing to me."

"It wasn't nothing to me either." John paused, frowning. "It was something to me? Whatever, you get my point."

"I do." Anna put a hand through her hair. "I came to the station to tell you because Alexei was watching me. After dinner the other night-"

"Did he know what we… did?"

"I don't think he was focusing on whether or not we were having sex right in front of him." Anna shrugged, "Even if he did know, he'd think it'd just prove his point that I own you with my vagina."

"Not that I'm an expert in them by any means but…"

They both managed a laugh before Anna continued. "He wanted a test of my loyalty after I tried to stave him off having you run an operation for us. He thought I was going soft and wanted a way to confirm it. Unfortunately for the three of your officers in the IC Unit, it wasn't what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"Honestly?" Anna waved a hand, "I thought he'd have some kind of macho shootout or something. He's very cinematic in his delusions of grandeur."

"And the MI5 agents?"

"He's suspicious of a couple in some gang groups but he's not a hundred percent. Or, wasn't." Anna winced, "After tonight you sent them into a bit of a frenzy to get them all out and they won't easily recoup their losses."

"Better behind than dead." John motioned to the sofa. "Do you want to sit? I've been on my feet for hours and I'm about dead."

"Sure." They sat close to one another, Anna's fingers lacing and unlacing as John tapped a tuneless rhythm on his knees. The tick of the silence forced Anna's voice first but she noticed John opened his mouth as well. "After you."

"Please," He opened his hand to her. "You're the guest."

"Well," She swallowed, "I guess the question we need to answer is, what happens now?"

"If you'd asked that twenty-four hours ago I'd say we try to take Green down together."

'But since I'm asking now?"

"I've told Robert everything. He knows how deep I got, how much I cocked this all up, and I've told him that he'll get everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything." John cringed, "I thought you'd left me hanging out to dry and so I wanted to tear it all down."

"Me included?"

"You're part of the deal I made to save my pension and reputation before I resign in a little less than shame." John leaned back on the sofa. "I don't know how I planned to fulfill on that promise but I wanted to burn it all to the ground."

"And leave my ass flapping in the breeze like I'd left yours?"

"That's about it."

"It's fair." Anna brought her legs under her, crossing them to face him on the sofa. "What if I wanted to help you with that?"

'What if you did?"

"What if I could give you everything? My operation, my contacts, my bosses, the lines of infiltration… everything?"

John narrowed his eyes, "What would it cost me?"

"You get me out." Anna closed her eyes, "I want to be free of this. I'm tired of jumping at shadows and putting aside what I want because it might harm someone. I want to live my life for me again."

"What would that mean?"

"Just me somewhere far away from all of this." Anna left the sofa, going toward John's windows. "I used to love this city. Now I hate every part of it. Every light, every street, every infested shadow. I want to leave it all as far behind as I can without leaving the planet."

"I might be able to help with that." John pulled out his phone, texting quickly. "I've got a friend who may be willing to lend his expertise on this."

"Do you?" Anna returned to the sofa and John put the phone down. "I didn't think the adventures of this morning would've lent well to you making friends with MI5."

"He's not MI5 and we met in the Army." John kept his focus on her. "What about everything else?"

"Do you mean you, because that's the only 'else' I see."

"In so many words, yes."

Anna rested her elbow on the back of the sofa to put her head against her hand and look at him. "Do you want to be a part of it?"

"At this point I don't know if I should but I also don't know how I'd stay away." John ran a hand through his hair. "We've… We've known one another through the worst of ourselves. What does it say about us that we're attracted like two toxic magnets?"

"That we're either perfect for one another or we're very, very wrong for each other." Anna focused on the fingers of her other hand. "We're like a couple of bad pence I guess."

"But how would we live without one another when we've seen one another's sins?" John snorted, "I don't know anyone else who's seen me like you do."

"Then I've got three questions for you."

"Back to this are we?" John got comfortable. "Go on."

"First, would you ever want anyone else?"

John sucked the inside of his cheek, "I've not been one to want many people. I've had dates and sex and short-term relationships but I've never really wanted anyone in my life. There's the constant need to please them or placate and I'm not one for that."

"Second," Anna ticked up another finger. "Would you consider me to be someone you want?"

"I think I wanted you from the first moment I saw you really. Sitting across from me in your pub as if nothing were wrong with a copper trying his luck." John watched Anna move forward on the sofa, their knees touching.

"Third," She brought both of her knees together and moved up to put her hands on his shoulders. "Will you take me on this sofa right now?"

"What?"

"The questions are mine so all you get are answers." Anna held his gaze, "I want you to take me on this sofa right now. Will you?"

"Yes." John surged up, taking her mouth with his.

Their hands tangled, forgetting oft practiced and hard learned lessons in such a short time. Each caress left one of them moaning and each popped button or slide of fabric only brought shivers. Before long their clothing piled and rumpled on the wooden floors as John tried to lay Anna back. She shifted, as if to move from his grip, but John held her steady.

His hands gripped her hips while his mouth tried to dominate hers. She fought him, trying to manage the moment, but John did not give an inch. His tongue and teeth set to work arousing her with nips over her jaw, a swipe over her pulse, a tug on her earlobe, and then a series of sucking bites down to her breasts.

Anna writhed under him, continuing to move as if to guide him but John pulled back, one hand abandoning her hip to circle and tempt at her breast. "You said you wanted me to take you."

"Hard and fast." She sat up as John frowned. "I don't want slow. Not now."

"Why not?"

"Because…" Anna closed her eyes, "Because I want to feel your anger."

"Why would you want that?"

"It won't make sense."

"It will if you explain slowly and use small words."

Anna smiled at him, hand stroking over his cheek. "Because when I don't have time to think then I don't have time to doubt whether or not I deserve it. When you take your time, when you treat me as if I'm the only thing in the world that matters, it makes me think too much." She leaned closer, rubbing herself against him and trilling her approval in her throat as he jerked against her stomach. "I don't want to think. I just want to feel you."

John slipped a hand around her, fondling her ass a moment before running over her folds. Anna gasped out, biting her lip when his fingers pulled away to glint in the brightening light of morning. He met her eyes again, "How hard and fast?"

"Animalistic if you can manage it."

Her smile turned into a cry of surprise as John flipped her onto her stomach and loomed over her. A shift on the sofa left a shining trail and John almost bit through his tongue at the tightening in his groin. His hands kneaded over her shoulders and back, digging deep as if offering a tissue massage, and then sculpted her ass. He held there as he positioned himself behind her.

One kiss to her shoulder was all the warning she received before he drove forward. Anna's fingers dug into the leather of the sofa and John tried to secure their position by risking one of his legs on the floor. The other folded behind her and John maneuvered a hand to her thigh to pull her leg over his hip so he could slide deeper.

As per her request, he did not slow and he did not stop. The sofa squeaked and slid a bit on the polished floor but John maintained his pace. Each thrust brought a kiss or a caress to her body and soon he leaned over her to bring them closer. Her hand found the back of his neck, tangling in the hair there, and dragged him close enough to meet his lips.

She drove herself back on him hungrily, meeting each of his thrusts with enthusiasm until John could barely breathe. His chest tightened and he released in a rush. Her body still quaked and quivered under him, the tension in the way her fingers dug into his neck.

John withdrew, ignoring her whine, and turned her so she lay on the sofa with one foot on the floor. Lowering himself, conscious of the slick, wet rubbing of himself over the leather, John set his mouth to work. Anna shrieked, her fingers digging for purchase on his head to bring him to her faster and harder. Following the example of his body, John soon left her pulsing about him as she came in a rush on his tongue.

He moved back, walking a bit unsteadily to the kitchen, and came back with a wet cloth. Wiping her down, John cleaned himself up next and then scrubbed at the leather of the sofa before tossing the rag on their clothes and lifting Anna into his arms. She tried to fight him but John took her to his room, laying her on the bed as gently as he could.

"You're wrong," He whispered to her and Anna blinked at him a bit blearily. "You do deserve it and I'd want to spend my whole life proving that to you."

"I think I'd like that." She sighed, "Do you have a nice bath?"

"Nice enough for you I think." John went to manage the bath when he heard his phone chiming. "Give me a minute."

"Take your time." Anna got up, putting a hand to the wall to hold herself steady. "I think I can manage a few faucets."

John hurried back to the sitting room and picked up his phone, managing the clothes with his other hand. "John Bates."

"Is she serious about the offer?"

John stopped, checking the caller ID on his phone before answering. "She seems it to me."

"Then we can't half-ass this. We'll need to play it just right since the people she's leaving behind won't be too happy she'll abandon them and then skunk their operations here in England."

"I'm aware." John dumped his clothes and the rag in a hamper, pausing to hear Anna in the bathroom, and then laid her clothes out on the chair in his room. "And I think she is too."

"She'd have to be that or mad to suggest what you'll do."

"So are you going to help me or not Charles?"

"For the chance to crack the Russians?" John smiled at the laugh on the other end of the line. "Count me in."

"What do we have to do?"

"Put her in prison."

John stopped, "What?"

"You need to screw her over so badly she's taking the rap for this too. No deals, nothing. You get her behind bars as soon as you can."

"That's…" John lowered his voice to hiss into the phone. "That's mad."

"It's the only way. I they think she sold them out then she's dead. You're dead, anyone she knows is dead, and anyone who lived within a two-block radius of her is dead for good measure. These are the kind of people who'll kill your dog and your doctor for good measure. They leave no stone unturned."

"So I throw her to the wolves?"

"In British prison?" Charles guffawed at that. "She'll be the ruler of the roost in a week, I'd bet money on it."

"And what about the rest of it?"

"You get her in prison and I'll handle the rest of it."

The line went dead and John held the phone limply in his hand. He heard Anna calling him from the bathroom and left the phone to charge on his bedside table to delay it. His hands shook as he placed one on the door to open it.

In another circumstance, or even ten minutes into the past, the sight of Anna lounging in a tub of soapy water beckoning to him would be the stuff of his most erotic fantasies. Now, as he leadenly made his way to her with his body betraying a need his mind had not engaged to yet have, John sank into the water with all the speed of his heart dropping in his chest. He tried to force a smile as Anna came over to him, her hand immediately teasing gliding passes over his stirring arousal.

"Who was on the phone?"

"Just the friend who said he could help us."

"Really?" Anna straddled his legs, her hand not stopping as the other stroked his chest, her mouth lowering to leave a trail of kisses at his neck. "What does he need?"

"Information. Your contacts, the details of your operation, everyone who works with you, all the Russian connections and dealings you know about."

"He doesn't ask for much." Anna laughed against his skin, her hand tightening on him to thicken his erection as her core rubbed against him. "Does he want the kitchen sink too?"

"If you could manage it." John forced a hollow laugh from his chest as Anna dotted kisses over his face. "You could give it to me and I'll pass it along. He'll investigate it and then we'll move forward."

"I could do that." Anna settled back, rising on her knees a moment before sinking down on him. "When do you need it by?"

"Soon as you can manage it."

"Well," She rocked over him. "It's all in a storage space so I could just give you the key."

"That'd make it easier." John gritted his teeth as she bobbed and weaved, her breasts within reach and the focus of his mouth to stop himself saying something.

Anna groaned and held him closer as she ground down to snap their hips together in the water. It sloshed over the side but John occupied himself with suckling at her breasts and running his hands over her. But the whole time the slippery feeling made him want to push her away before it turned as slimy as he felt with himself. The deception sickened and roiled in his gut but his body focused only on the clutch of her soaking heat as it clung and rippled about him.

With a gasp she finished and slumped toward him. John held her as carefully as he could and let himself climax with the cold weight of guilt sitting in his chest. He did not move her, preferring instead to touch over every part of her he could until she eventually moved away.

They dried off, John mopping up the water on the floor, and Anna dressed while John fumbled with towels and sheets to distract himself. She pressed something into his hand and John finally met her eyes, a voice nagging at the back of his mind that she could see the guilt there. "The key to the storage space. It's just a garage near the pub. It's got our logo on it and we keep some of our inventory in the front but there's a wall, at the back, that removes. Just knock and you'll find it. The files are all there."

"Paper?"

"Safer." Anna kissed his cheek. "I'll see you soon John. Remember, it's your turn next with the three questions."

"Yeah. I'll think some up for you." John hurried to kiss her lips, letting himself sink deeply into the kiss he realized would be the last. "I'll see you soon."

She left his flat and John sank onto the arm of the sofa, the key turning in his fingers until sunlight filled the sitting room.

* * *

John played with his fingers as he sat on the other side of Robert's desk. Robert held the key up, frowning at it. "This'll give us everything you promised?"

"Her last files."

"More paper I'd imagine." Robert groaned, "I guess that's what probies are for, grunt work. Though I still don't understand why she can't convert to digital like the rest of us. She can't be a luddite when she's younger than we are can she?"

"Paper means she can't get hacked and they can't delete the files remotely." John shrugged, "Even burning them leaves a trace."

"I guess it's good to be paranoid in the spy business." Robert paused, "Do you want to come when we arrest her?"

"I'd better not. They know my face there and if you want to avoid backlash then you've got to make it like you're there because you know something." John pushed himself to stand, "I'll wait until her interrogation."

"Is that wise?"

"None of this has been wise, Robert." John shrugged, "I'm just cleaning up the mess I made."

The wait was interminable. John paced the small observation room and tossed back and forth between the idea that he should have gone with them and the conviction to stay as he was. When the door opened he jumped, ready for Talbot or Robert to tell him it was time, but it was only Mary.

She closed the door behind her and took a deep breath. "I know Anna told you about me and about what I've done to help her."

"She did."

"I also know you didn't tell my father any of it when you confessed your… sins, as it were." Mary wrung her hands. "I don't know if I can adequately express my gratitude."

"There's none to express." John leaned on the wall. "I'm about to put the woman I love in prison."

"Not without reason."

"If she's going in shouldn't I?" John opened his hands, "I'm the pot calling the kettle black."

"And yet you didn't tell my father about me." Mary held his scowl. "We do those things we think are best. We're not reliable narrators, John, and it's hard to separate those things we do because they're right and those things we do because they feel right."

"None of this feels right." John shook his head, "It's not right."

"But according to everyone else and the oaths we serve, it is." Mary shrugged, "I'm not here to beg that you convince Anna not to mention me or anything."

"Then why are you here?"

"To thank you and say, I know there's a reason you're doing this and it's not save your own skin. I guess," Mary flailed for a moment and then sighed. "Just remember whatever reason brought you to this point was because you thought it was right."

"She won't see it that way."

"I'm the mother of a six-year-old and I'll tell you that we don't always like what's best for us but, when it comes down to it, we see we were wrong." Mary opened the door, "They're back, by the way."

John waited, watching through the mirror as Talbot and Robert led Anna into the room. Talbot exited a moment and John turned at his signaling knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, John forced himself to walk the short distance between the two rooms.

Anna's eyes flashed confusion, joy, fear, and a bit of relief as John entered the room. All of those emotions faded when he took the seat next to Robert. She went to speak but Robert raised a hand.

"We advise you, Ms. Smith, not to speak unless you are ready for it to be recorded."

Her fingers, dragging her cuffs with her, flicked the switch on the recorder with a savage force. "Record whatever you bloody like since it won't paint a pretty picture for you." She turned to John, "I thought we were in this together."

"You thought incorrectly, Ms. Smith." He cleared his throat, "I'm going to ask you three questions. You can only decline to answer one of them but then you must submit to a fourth question. All your answers need to be truthful."

"No," Anna shook her head. "You wouldn't do this to me. Not here."

"Question one," John held her gaze, tightening his fingers until his knuckles went white. "Are you an agent for the SVR, otherwise known as Russian Intelligence Services?"

"Don't do this." Her voice broke, her fingers moving toward his but he shifted away. "Don't play like this."

John set his jaw. "Answer the question, Ms. Smith, or pass for another."

"Why?"

"I'm asking the questions." John pressed, ignoring the shimmer of tears at the edges of her eyes. "Are you an agent for the SVR?"

"Don't do this John. Please don't do this."

"Pass or answer the question."

Anna tried to wipe at her tears but they came faster than she could get rid of them. "Yes. I'm an agent for the SVR."

"Have you passed information to the SVR that has been to the benefit of Russia and her agents working here in England?"

"Yes."

John swallowed, waiting until Anna met his eyes and the glimmer of hope through her rush of tears broke him. "Did you attempt to seduce and use me, DI John Bates, as an agent of the SVR and as your mole inside this division of the Metropolitan Police?"

"Yes."

John turned to Robert, "If you could take the rest of the interrogation, Chief Crawley, I'm done here."

He went to leave and stopped at the door, digging his nails in as Anna called to him with tears coating her voice. "I trusted you. You were supposed to help get me away from them."

John turned, "Then you weren't paying attention."

The door shut but he could still hear her sobs through the wood.


	20. And Then, They Were No One

He sighed, holding the box in his hands, and jumped when someone put a hand on his shoulder. Smiling at Talbot, John adjusted the box to shake his hand. "Here to see me off?"

"No." Talbot shook his head and patted John's desk. "Here to measure my new desk."

"They're giving you a partner?"

"Mary's passed her exam and agreed to it." Talbot shrugged. "I guess we'll see."

"I pity her already." John's smile faltered and they stood in silence a moment.

"Take care John." Talbot extended a hand and John shook it.

"You too Henry." He managed a little smirk. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Or any of the things you did do." Talbot laughed, "I'll keep it all high and tight here, I promise."

"I've not got a single doubt." He went to leave as Talbot called out to him.

"I'm sorry about Anna." John nodded as Talbot continued. "I know she wasn't perfect but I was sorry to hear she died in prison. I thought you both deserved better."

"We deserved what we got in the end." John waved, "See you around Henry."

"I just," Talbot stopped him again, pointing at the box. "Why don't you stay? I mean, she's gone so all the rumors about what you and she did together are dying off. The Russians, between the bungling of MI5 and MI6 are basically almost gone from the area. All of her people are out on bail or never charged and running her bar. It's all right with the world again."

"Other than her being stabbed in prison?"

"Other than…" Talbot sighed, "I just think you've got more in your tank is all. You could stay and continue doing the work you were born to do."

"This case, Henry, it… it tore me open. I betrayed the only woman I've ever loved in my life for the greater good. She died before I could see her to apologize. I…" John shook his head. "This case broke me and I can't do this work anymore. Not knowing what I sacrificed of myself for this. I crossed a line and I can't go back but I won't cross it again."

John set his shoulders. "It's over for me, Henry, and I wish you luck but this isn't my game anymore."

"I still think you're wrong but I respect your decision."

"Ring me up when you're desperate." John opened the door and only just caught Talbot's obscene gesture before it closed behind him.

He held the box on his lap as the Tube rumbled about it and walked it up to his flat. Opening the door with one hand, John held it to his body as he closed himself inside the space. Boxes filled the sitting room and he sighed as he saw his mother repacking one of them.

"That's not necessary Mother."

"Your sweaters mixed with your shoes and now they'll smell."

"Not sure that was the worry when I packed them."

"It should've been. Do you want to smell like feet?"

"Not sure I care at this point." John set the box on top of a stack near the door. "What are you doing here?"

"The movers already shipped my things." She paused, refolding a sweater. "I'm not sure it's healthy for a man of your age to buy a house with his mother."

"It's better than leaving you in a home."

"Maybe I'd make friends there." Mrs. Bates packed the sweater into another box and folded it shut. "With you I'd just get this mopey version I can't stand."

"Am I not allowed to be depressed?"

"Not if that's all you'll be." She put her hands on her hips. "You missed your chance. That happens sometimes."

"Says the woman who told me, in no uncertain terms, that if I didn't keep the girl around I'd never find anyone else to take me." John checked his watch. "They'll be in here in a few minutes for my things."

"I didn't think you ever wanted to move to Ireland."

"It's far away from here." John glanced toward the windows. "I can't stand the feel of this city anymore."

"How hard did she dump you?"

John sighed, going back to the door as someone knocked on it. "Not hard enough."

* * *

John parked the car and turned to his mother as a man exited the house. "I need to be honest with you about something mother."

"What is that?"

"We can't be ourselves anymore." He pulled two passports out of his pocket and handed one to her. "This is your new identity."

"John, I'm too old for games like this."

"It's not a game Mr. Coyle." She jumped as a dark haired man opened her door, extending a hand to her. "This is for your safety and that of your son."

"My safety?" Mrs. Bates frowned, pointing a quivering finger at John. "What did you do?"

"He dated an agent who was a Russian spy and then burned her to screw over the Russians in a nasty way." The man extended a hand to her, "Charles Blake. We met when John was given his commendation for bravery."

"You've still got all your hair."

"And more besides." He swept his arm toward the house. "You've been all but moved into the house already if you'll just come this way."

John shut the door on the car, spinning the keys on his finger as he walked the exterior of the house. When he rounded toward the rear he saw someone digging in the garden, a trowel hacking into the hard packed dirt before giving a triumphant exclamation. His heart stopped as she turned up and their eyes met.

In a second she flew at him. Her arms and legs wrapped about him for half a second and then she released to slap him hard across the face. John staggered back and then exhaled quickly as her arms wrapped him. Another fist hit his side and he bent with the blow before she soothed it away and embraced him tighter.

"Could you decide on a reaction before I suffer whiplash?"

She disengaged, removing her work gloves and tossing them onto a table. "I should do a lot more to you for what you did to me."

"Would it help if I said it was all Charles's idea?"

"He already told me when he spirited me here." She turned a circle, "You're looking at Jo Smith."

"Joe?"

"J-O, no E." She shuddered, "It's like a step below being 'John Smith' and then whipping out a sonic screwdriver like it's normal."

"Anna-" John stopped himself, "How can I apologize for what I did?"

"I'll assume you just tore yourself up about it." Anna paused, pressing the tips of her fingers against one another. "Did you go to sleep at night and dream of a better woman?"

"How can I when there aren't any?"

She snorted her laugh, "I guess I should consider myself lucky Blake knew what he was doing."

John cringed, "How'd you mean?"

Anna lifted the hem of her shirt and John noticed a motley of bruises there and a line of stiches. Anna guided John's hand along them. "He struck perfectly. I bled a lot but it wasn't fatal. And then he got me out in an ambulance switch I wish I'd been more conscious to appreciate."

She lowered her shirt. "It saved me from what they would've done to me in there."

"Had they already moved on you?"

"They'd tried a few things but it was all just a series of tests." Anna led John back toward the garden shed, taking her gloves and trowel. "They didn't have enough strength or smarts to go for the kill yet but once they did it was a matter of time. Until then it was the torture of not knowing. It kills in its own ways."

"But you're alright, otherwise?"

Anna turned to him, "I will be if you kiss me to prove this isn't all a very elaborate hallucination."

John placed his hands on her hips and took her mouth with more force than he realized until she muffled her gasp against his lips. But when he tried to move back she only held him closer. Her leg curved around his hip and they knocked into the table behind her.

"Anna?"

"Please," She pulled him, her hands frantic and struggling to get a grip on his shirt or his trousers. "It's been months. I want… I want to feel you all around me."

John helped them rearrange and situation until her legs wrapped his waist and he sank his fingers deeply into her. The table shook under the force of her bucking and writhing body but John could only respond to her signals. Each scratch of her nails over his skin or through his shirt brought a deep stroke. When she let her head fall back and expose her neck he laid kisses there. And the buck of her hips closer to him had John opening his own trousers.

They joined in a second and then stopped. Mutual groans, half muffled in a kiss, echoed in the little wooden shed. The space stifled them but all they could do was continue until they finished. It was too late to turn back now and at the signal from Anna's hips John moved.

Pushing and grinding, rocking and moaning, gyrating and tugging turned into a battle for mutual pleasure. They sought one another's skin, mouths, and breath until they were one person. In a second they came together and then slumped as the only support they could find.

John lifted his head to gaze in the blushed face of a hazy-eyed Anna. She smiled at him, kissing his lips sweetly in time with his pull out of her, and then handed over a clean rag. He mopped them up and helped restore any sense of modesty before nodding toward the house.

"Charles is inside."

"And your mother?" Anna peeked around the door. "How's she taking the news?"

"Since he's the one giving it to her… I guess we'll see if she slaps me the way you did when you saw me after you knew what I did."

Anna put her hand to his cheek, "If you're good I'll slap you until you use the safe word."

"I'll hold you to that." John kissed her quickly and then dug into his pocket for his vibrating phone. "I'll see you inside."

He answered it, "Mr. Coyle speaking."

"John?"

"Robert?' John frowned, "How'd you get this number?"

"You're not the only man with a friend in the business of being a Spook."

"Really?"

"Really. Now shut up because this is important."

"I'm listening." John put a hand on the shed wall, putting his back to the house. "What's up?"

"We took the last safe house last night and there was no sign of Green."

"Maybe he ran back to Russia with his tail between his legs."

"MI6 and MI5 doubt it and the word from the other Russians willing to risk a deal say he wouldn't go back disgraced as he is. It'd be Lefortovo Prison for him if he did."

"Then what are you saying?" John stiffened as if ice water traveled in his veins instead of blood as something cold touched the back of his neck.

"That he's still at large and might be seeking a way to get himself out of trouble with the Russians."

John turned slowly, the slide of the pointed weapon running over his skin to bead blood down his neck. He faced Green, holding a Khyber knife with his fist rotated toward his body so the blade would sit along the outside of his arm if he had it toward his body. "Something like… killing me?"

"It might be a risk."

"I'll keep that in mind." John swallowed, "And Robert?"

"Yeah?"

"Bad Wolf." John threw the phone at Green and the man ducked.

Bringing his arm around, John tired to knock the knife loose from Green's hand but he swung about and left a streak of pain digging into John's skin. The bloom of red over his shirt dyed the white fabric as it tore through it to leave flapping sides billowing out like a bad fashion statement.

John worked back into the shed, hand scrabbling until he closed about the trowel. He brought it forward, countering a swipe that screeched over the metal. The Khyber knife sliced a sliver of metal from the duller metal but John managed to knock it against Green's temple. He stumbled into the table, disturbing a few pots so they crashed to the floor.

Dodging a slice that cut through his shirt and beaded more blood over his stomach, John tumbled into the door. It shut under the force of his fall and he used the trowel to block a downward stab of the knife. Another sweep and he missed the knife but knocked the trowel hard against Green's wrist. The knife slipped and John noticed two cuts over his wrist.

His legs locked and John grabbed for the table to find support as Green switched the knife to his other hand. "This is a knife of Persia. A knife of skilled fighters that blends well with the knife dances I learned as a child. It keeps a very fine edge and you barely feel the sting until it's too late."

John blinked, his legs buckling under him as his fingers squished over his own blood as he tried to block the flow at his wrist. His leg kicked out in a half-hearted flail that Green dodged as he crouched over him. The point of the blade skated down his nose, cutting hairs there as it stayed a millimeter from his skin.

"I wonder if you can tell me what'll be like to die knowing you were dead minutes before you realized." He raised the knife, positioning it at John's throat. "Perhaps you could tell the Devil I look forward to making his acquaintance."

"Tell him yourself."

John blinked as Green turned toward the door and then fell backward when a pot smashed in his face. The knife clattered to the floor and someone kicked it away. His vision blurred and John let his head slump back toward the wall as his fingers slipped from his wrist. Whatever scuffle took place just beyond the clarity of his fading vision, a series of punches and body blows rang out in time with curses and a few shouts.

With a final shriek in the background, John closed his eyes and let it all go black.

* * *

Beeping echoed in his ears and John tried to move but hands immediately pressed him into the bed. "You'll pull your stiches."

"Anna?" John tried to look around as she smiled at him. "Why are you always at my bedside in hospitals?"

"Because I keep getting you into trouble." Anna held his fingers between hers, kissing over the line of stiches in his right arm and then pulling his bandaged left wrist closer to kiss it too. "When I get you out of here I'll kiss every scar you've gotten because of me."

"How romantic." John pulled up his gown to view the gauze at his abdomen. "How bad was that one?"

"Not deep enough for stiches. The one at your left wrist had them really worried but they fixed you up just fine." Anna pushed his hair back. "It's your leg I worry about."

"My leg?" John leaned over and then immediately back, holding at his abdomen with one hand and his leg with the other. "What happened?"

"Green when for his knife again and when I kicked his wrist he landed sideways and… stabbed you in the leg." Anna winced, "I'm so sorry John."

"I guess I didn't need that leg anyway." He smiled and then took her hands as she sniffed. "I was joking."

"But it's all been my fault. All of this pain I've caused. It's all been me."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." John kissed her fingers, inviting her onto the bed with him. "Life it pain… anyone-"

"Telling you different is selling something. I remember the line." Anna wedged herself at his right side, trying to avoid the multitude of injuries as she curled around him to put her head on his shoulder. "What a pair we make eh?"

"Quite." He sighed, "Who got Green?"

"No one."

"No one?"

"Well, no one killed him." Anna shrugged when John turned to her. "I wanted to. Wanted to gut the bastard like a fish and then skin him with his own knife but I decided I 'd rather turn him over to enjoy Lefortovo and so he could tell the Center I said they can go screw themselves."

"How'd you subdue him?"

"Systema." Anna hurried to clarify. "It just means 'The System' and it's the Russian martial arts structure. It's rather detailed and very helpful."

"Learned that in assassin school did you?"

"No," Anna poked at him and then hurried to soothe it as he grimaced. "Sorry."

"It's fine." John wheezed, "I didn't need that rib either."

"Yes you do." Anna kissed his cheek. "Because you'll need it for the next time I dig into it with my elbow, or for supporting your heart when it's overflowing as I present our first child to you."

"What?"

"I want to marry you, John Bates."

"We can't Anna." John waved a hand. "We're not even here under our own names."

"That doesn't matter." She put her hand over his mouth. "We've spent too long on the sidelines. It's time we became one another's next of kin. You can't deny me that."

"Fine." John muffled against her hand and she removed it. "When's the day?"

"The minute you're well enough to sweep me off my feet and find a place where you can make sweet, sweet love to me."

"On one condition," John lifted a finger, "We never use that word for it again."

"Deal." Anna kissed him, sucking on his tongue long enough to leave him moaning. "I can't wait to be Mrs. Bates."

"You can't be because that's not my name anymore."

"Whatever your last name is," Anna pursed her lips at him, "I want it as my own and I can't wait for that day."


End file.
